f      JUN   3  1963 

KEMINISCENCES  AND  EECOKDS 


REV.  LEONARD  WOODS,  D.  D., 


BY  HIS  DAUGHTER, 

HARRIETTE  NEWELL  WOODS  BAIiER. 


"  The  memory  of  the  just  is  blessed."  —  Solomon. 


BOSTON: 

ALFRED    MUDGE    &    SON,  PRINTEKS, 
No.  24  Franklin  Street. 
1887. 


By  EDGAR  A.  GUEST 


THOUGHTS  OF  A  FATHER. 

We've  never  seen  the  Father  here,  but  we 

have  known  the  Son, 
The  finest  type  of  manhood  since  the 

world  was  first  begun; 
And,  summing  up  the  works  of  God,  I 

write  with  reverent  pen, 
The  greatest  is  the  boy  he  sent  to  cheer 

the  lives  of  men. 

Through  him  we  learned  the  ways  of  God 

and  found  the  Father's  love. 
The  Son  it  was  who  won  us  back  to  him 

who  reigns  above. 
The  Lord  did  not  come  down  himself  to 

prove  to  men  his  worth. 
He  sought  our  worship  through*  the  child 

he  placed  upon  the  earth. 

How  can  I  best  express  my  life?  Where- 
in does  greatness  lie? 

How  can  I  long  remembrance  win,  since 
I  am  born  to  die? 

Both  fame  and  gold  are  selfish  things, 
their  charms  may  quickly  flee ; 

But  I'm  the  father  of  a  boy  who  long 
may  speak  for  me. 

In  him  lies  all  I  hope  to  be;  his  splendo. 

shall  be  mine. 
I  ,3hall  have  done  man's  greatest  work  i 

only  he  is  fine. 
If  some  day  he  shall  help  the  world  Ion: 

after  I  am  dead,  i 
In  ail  that  men  shall  say  of  him  m; 

praises  shall  be  said. 

It  matters  not  what  I  may  win  of  fleetin 

gold  or  fame. 
My  hope  of  joy  depends  alone  on  wh^ 

my  boy  shall  claim; 
My  story  must  be  told  through  him,  fo 

him  I  vt-ork  and  plan. 
Man's  greatest  duty  is  to  be  the  fathe 

of  a  man. 
(CotiyrlgM,101~,  by  Edgar  A.  Guest.) 


PREFACE. 


Now  that  I  have  finished  these  Reminiscences  and  Records  of 
my  father,  and  closed  my  portfolio  containing  letters  from  him, 
memoranda,  and  documents,  which  I  have  been  collecting  for 
twenty  years,  I  feel  a  pang  as  though  the  parting  from  him  was 
new  and  fresh.  While  writing,  I  have,  with  the  eye  of  my  mind, 
seen  his  tall  form  before  me,  and  his  mild  blue  eyes  gazing  into 
mine.  I  have  felt  the  influence  of  his  kind,  loving,  forgiving 
heart,  guiding  my  pen.  Many  and  many  a  sentence  have  I 
erased,  because,  on  reading  it  over,  I  have  felt,  "this  he  would  not 
approve." 

No  reader  can  be  more  sensible  of  the  imperfections  of  this 
sketch  than  the  writer  herself  has  been.  I  am  well  aware  that 
there  are  others  upon  whom  the  pleasant  task  would  have  more 
appropriately  fallen,  though  I  have  been  cheered  and  sustained  in 
my  work,  by  words  and  letters  of  encouragement  from  kindred 
and  friends.  I  have  been  drawn  to  the  loving  employment  by  a 
power  I  could  not  resist ;  by  a  feeling  that  though  my  father  exer- 
cised love,  patience,  forgiveness  towards  all  his  children,  toward 
none  was  there  such  need  of  these  virtues  as  toward  me. 


4 


PBEFACE. 


In  describing  the  characteristics  of  my  father,  especially  in  his 
social  relations,  I  have  chosen  to  illustrate  his  love,  his  patience, 
his  tenderness,  his  forgiveness,  by  incidents  in  his  life,  rather  than 
to  express  them  in  the  usual  didactic  form,  even  at  the  risk  of 
putting  myself  in  too  prominent  a  position. 

Of  my  readers,  I  ask  that,  overlooking  all  shortcomings  in  the 
preparation  of  my  work,  they  -will  read  candidly  these  Reminis- 
cences and  Records  of  a  good  man,  now  in  a  world  where  neither 
praise  nor  blame  can  injure  him.  If  any  one,  after  reading  it, 
finds  his  own  heart  more  full  of  love  to  his  fellow-men,  more  tender 
towards  their  failings,  more  careful  of  their  reputation,  more  like 
their  divine  Master  in  the  exercise  of  every  Christian  virtue,  then 
shall  I  be  happy  indeed. 

H.  N.  W.  B. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


PACE 

CHAPTER  I. 

Wachtjsett  9 

CHAPTER  II. 

Birth  and  Boyhood  14 

CHAPTER  III. 

College  Life  23 

CHAPER  IV. 

Settlement  in  West  Newbury  33 

CHAPTER  V. 

DrvTNiTY  School  38 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Connection  with  Benevolent  Societies  49 


6  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


A  Man  of  Pilvyer 


PAGE 

CHAPTER  VII. 

 52 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Humility  .vnd  Charity  54 


CHAPTER  IX. 
Benevolence   

CHAPTER  X. 
A  Preacher   

CHAPTER  :XI. 
Reverence  for  the  Sabbath  . 


A  Day  of  Sorrow     .      .      .  • 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Punctuality  

CHAPTER  XIV. 


57 


CHAPTER  Xn 

 67 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS.  7 

FAOK 

CHAPTER  XV. 

As  A  Father  80 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Attachment  to  nis  Friunds  89 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

His  BmTHDAY  98 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
As  A  Counsellor  103 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

His  Quick  Sympathy  107 

CHAPTER  XX. 

His  Frankness  and  F.uthfulness  Ill 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

His  Temperance  119 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Miscellaneous  Incidents  125 


8  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

CHAPTER  XXin. 


Sickness  and  Death 


CHAPTER  XXrV. 

FCNEKAL  AND  NOTICES   140 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

List  of  Publications  146 


EEMINISCENCES  AND  EECORDS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

WACHUSETT. 

"  Away  back  almost  to  the  days  of  good  Queen  Bess,  eleven 
years  after  the  landing  at  Plymouth,  as  early  as  1631,  Governor 
Winthrop  and  compnny  with  him  ascend*  d  Charles  River  eight 
miles  beyond  Watertown,  and  there,  standing  on  a  very  high  rock, 
they  saw  a  "  very  high  hill  due  west,  about  forty  miles  off."  * 

This  was  our  grand  old  Wachusett,  or  the  "  Great  Watchu- 
sett "  of  the  Indians,  two  hundred  and  fifty-six  years  ago. 

In  1643,  Governor  Winthi'op  again  says  :  "  At  this  Court,  Nash- 
acowan  and  Wassamagoin,  two  sachems  near  the  great  hill  to  the 
west,  called  "Wuuhasset  [Wachusett],  came  into  the  Court  and 
desired  to  be  received  under  our  protection  and  government ;  so 
we,  causing  them  to  understand  the  Articles  and  all  the  Ten  Com- 
mandments of  God,  and  they  freely  assenting  to  all,  they  were 


*Hon.  Charles  T.  Russell's  oration,  at  the  Centennial  celebration  of  Princeton. 


10 


BEMINI8CENCE8  AND  BEC0BD8. 


solemnly  received,  and  then  presented  the  Court  with  twenty-six 
fathom  more  of  wampum ;  and  then  the  Com-t  gave  each  of  them 
a  coat  of  two  yards  of  cloth  and  theu"  dinner ;  and  to  them  and 
their  men,  every  one  of  them,  a  cup  of  sack  at  their  departiu'e ; 
so  they  took  leave  and  went  away  very  joyful." 

In  1686,  five  Indians,  who  claimed  to  be  the  owners,  sold  to 
five  white  men  a  tract  of  land  twelve  miles  square,  the  northern 
part  of  which  run  up  to  "  Great  Watchusett."  This  deed  was  not 
registered  till  April,  1714.  In  1759,  on  petition  of  the  owners, 
fifteen  thousand  acres  lying  at  the  bnse  of  the  great  mountain 
were  "  erected  into  a  district  under  the  name  of  Prince  town  "  by 
au  Act  of  the  General  Court.  This  name  was  given  in  honor  of 
Rev.  Thomas  Prince,  then  colleague  pastor  of  the  Old  South 
Church  in  Boston.  He  was  by  far  the  largest  proprietor,  owning 
then  or  subsequently  about  three  thousand  acres,  which  descended 
to  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Moses  Gill. 

In  1765,  the  district  voted  to  send  a  petition  to  the  Great  and 
General  Court,  asking  that  some  thousands  of  acres  of  Province 
laud  be  added  to  their  town.  Samuel  Woods  and  two  other  men 
were  sent  to  the  Court  on  this  business. 

This  is  the  first  time  the  name  of  Samuel  Woods  appears  in 
the  early  records ;  but  afterwards  it  occurs  frequently  in  connec- 
tion with  town  and  church  affairs. 

Some  time  before  the  first  school-house  was  built,  a  room  was 


WACHUSETT. 


11 


hired,  and  Mr.  Woods  engaged  for  the  sum  of  six  pounds  (about 
twenty-seven  dollars)  a  year  to  teach  the  children  and  youth. 
Thomas  Wilder,  Esq.,  in  his  address  at  the  Centennial,  says  of 
him  :  — 

"  Master  Woods  was  greeted  by  his  appropriate  appellation  by 
old  and  young  wherever  he  was  known.  Being  self-taught,  he 
understood  how  to  teach  others.  Being  a  man  of  profound 
thought,  he  strove  to  promote  it  in  his  pupils  by  questions  suited 
to  elicit  reflection,  and  propounding  problems  to  be  solved  by 
induction,  thus  giving  to  the  mind  a  stimulus  to  develop  itself 
without  artificial  help.  Consequently,  a  goodly  number  of  intel- 
lectual inhabitants  came  forward,  honorable  to  the  town  and 
country.  We  need  look  no  farther  than  his  own  family  for  illus- 
trations ;  I  might  speak  of  numbers,  but  will  particularize  but 
one,  his  oldest  son,  by  his  last  wife,  Leonard,  whose  germ,  under 
paternal  culture,  gave  hopeful  promise,  and  who,  encouraged  by 
the  means  of  education  which  at  that  time  the  public  schools 
afforded,  graduated  at  Harvard  with  the  highost  honors  of  the 
college ;  and  whose  writings  are  said  to  be  the  most  lucid  in  the 
English  language,  and  are  read  in  all  the  enlightened  parts  of  the 
world."  * 

"  Master  Woods  did  a  great  deal  of  public  business.    He  was 


*  Address  of  Mr.  Wilder  at  tlie  celebration. 


12 


BEMimSCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


an  excellent  teacher,  and  trained  up  a  number  of  excellent  men. 
He  had  two  sons  who  were  Doctors  of  Divinity.  Abel  Woods,  who 
began  his  ministry  in  1790,  and  ended  it  in  1850,  making  a  term 
of  sixty  years  that  he  was  in  active  service.  His  son  Alvah  was 
also  a  Doctor  of  Divinit}',  and  president  of  a  college  in  Alabama, 
and  he  had  a  daughter  who  married  Eev.  Dr.  Patterson,  president 
of  Newton  Theological  Seminary. 

"  Another  son  of  Samuel  Woods,  Leonard,  was  for  a  long  period 
a  Professor  of  Divinity  at  Andover.  His  son,  of  the  same  name, 
is  a  Doctor  of  Divinity,  and  president  of  a  college.  He  had  also 
four  sons-in-law  who  were  Doctors  of  Divinity,  two  of  them  pro- 
fessors in  theological  seminaries.  This  is  honor  enough  for  one 
schoolmaster."  * 

The  first  settlers  of  Princeton  were  religious  men,  and  long 
before  the  building  of  the  meeting-house,  maintained  religious 
worship  in  private  houses,  finding  their  way  through  the  forest  by 
marked  trees. 

The  first  church  edifice  was  reared  in  1762,  as  the  record  has  it, 
"  fifty  foots  long  and  forty  foots  wide."  It  will  not  be  difficult  to 
judge  of  the  principles  of  these  settlers  from  the  account  given  of 
their  early  history  by  the  orator  before  referred  to:  "First  free- 
dom, then  an  axe,  then  a  clearing,  then  a  house,  then  a  wife  to 


*  Address  of  Professor  Everett  at  the  Centeimial. 


WACHUSETI. 


13 


make  it  a  home,  a  Bible  to  make  it  Christian,  honest,  loving  labor 
to  give  it  comfort,  and  thenceforth  everything  went  as  regular  as 
clock-work,  from  the  care  of  the  dau-y  to  the  chi'istening  of  the 
children." 


14 


REMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


CHAPTER  II. 

BIRTH  AND  BOYHOOD. 

On  the  iDth  of  June,  1774,  soou  after  the  rising  of  tlae  sun 
over  the  top  of  the  great  "Wachusett,  a  new  life  commenced. 
This  event,  wliich  proved  in  after  years  such  a  rich  blessing  to 
many,  occurred  in  a  humble  cottage  in  the  picturesque  town  of 
Princeton,  Mass.,  to  which  reference  was  made  in  our  opening 
chapter. 

It  was  the  Sabbath,  and,  in  accordance  with  the  desires  of  his 
godly  parents,  who  considered  it  both  a  privilege  and  a  dut}-  to 
present  their  babe  at  the  altar,  and  supplicate  for  it  the  blessing 
of  a  covenant-keeping  God,  the  little  one  was  carried  the  same 
day  a  distance  of  one  mile  to  church,  and  there  received  the  seal 
of  baptism  under  the  name  of  Leonard  Woods. 

Of  his  infancy  and  early  boyhood  it  is  difficult,  after  the  lapse 
of  a  hundi-ed  years,  to  recover  any  trace ;  but  we  may  infer  that, 
as  the  very  day  of  his  birth  was  distinguished  by  his  dedication  to 
God,  his  parents  did  not  relax  their  efforts  and  prayers  in  his 
behalf. 

His  father,  Samuel  Woods,  mentioned  in  the  first  chapter  as 
one  of  the  earliest  settlers  of  the  town,  and  his  mother,  Abigail 


BIBTH  AND  BOYHOOD. 


15 


Whitney  Underwood,  had  each  been  married,  and  had  a  family  of 
children  previous  to  their  union.  I  can  well  remember  that  when 
I  was  a  child,  my  father  smilingly  gave  me  this  puzzle:  "My 
father  had  fifteen  children  and  my  mother  had  ten,  but  both 
together  they  had  only  twenty." 

Of  the  last  five,  Leonard  was  the  eldest  son,  and  in  very  early 
childhood  distinguished  himself  not  only  by  his  sweet  disposition 
and  dutiful  obedience  to  the  wishes  of  his  parents,  but  also  by  the 
brightness  and  activity  of  his  mind. 

His  father,  in  consequence  of  being  the  schoolmaster  of  the 
town,  early  acquired  the  name  of  Master  "Woods,  —  a  title  which 
he  bore  till  his  death.  Though  without  a  collegiate  education, 
he  was  a  deep  student  and  a  close  thinker.  He  was  familiar 
with  the  standard  English  authors  in  literature,  philosophy,  and 
theology.  From  the  frequent  reference  made  to  him  in  the  town 
records,  it  is  plain  that  he  was  esteemed  a  man  of  sound  judgment. 

At  the  age  of  seven  Leonard  had  learned  to  read,  and  soon  after 
commenced  adding  and  subtracting  numbers,  as  he  heard  his  father 
give  out  examples  in  arithmetic  to  the  older  scholars. 

As  those  were  war  times,  and  there  was  a  heavy  dut}-  ou  slate, 
the  boys  provided  themselves  with  smooth  strips  of  birch  bark 
from  the  neighboring  woods  The  young  scholar  having  secured  a 
supply  of  this  article,  begged  one  of  his  sisters  to  help  him  make 
a  plummet  by  running  a  piece  of  lead  in  a  mould.    This  was  to 


16 


REMINISCENCES  AND  RECORDS. 


serve  for  a  pencil ;  and  so  well  did  these  rough  materials  answer 
the  purpose,  that  Leonard  soon  became  an  adept  in  arithmetic.  As 
he  advanced  in  skill,  his  father  gave  him  more  difficult  problems, 
which  he  was  required  to  work  out  without  assistance. 

At  this  period,  the  young  student  made  a  warm  friend  in  one  of 
his  neighbors,  Lieutenant-Governor  Gill,  who  watched  the  progress 
of  the  bright  boy  with  intense  interest. 

On  one  occasion,  having  a  more  than  usually  difficult  example  to 
work  out,  Leonard's  plummet  and  bark  were  in  use  every  leisure 
moment  for  several  days.  There  was  no  key  by  which  he  might 
at  once  catch  the  right  principle.  It  was  solid  brain  work  that 
was  required.  During  this  time,  his  mother  sent  him  on  an  errand 
to  the  house  of  Governor  Gill,  who  inquired  what  he  was  doing 
in  his  studies. 

"I  have  a  hard  sum  that  I  can't  work  out  yet ;  but  I  will  do  it," 
exclaimed  Leonard,  frankly. 

"  That 's  a  brave  lad,"  said  the  Governor,  patting  his  head. 
"  Can  you  tell  what  it  is  ? " 

Quick  as  thought,  the  boy  pulled  the  roll  of  birch  bark  from  his 
pocket,  and.  with  pluininet  in  hand,  commenced  explaining  his 
example,  and  wherein  lay  his  difficulty  in  solving  it. 

"  It's  a  tough  one,  to  be  sure,"  remarked  the  gentleman,  laugh- 
ing, "  but  you'll  master  it." 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  will"  was  the  emphatic  reply. 


BIRTH  AND  BOYHOOD. 


17 


At  an  early  hour  he  sought  his  humble  couch  in  the  attic,  and 
there,  with  the  moon  shining  full  in  his  face,  he  went  over  and  over, 
in  his  mind,  the  process  of  reckoning,  but  all  in  vain.  With  his 
thoughts  full  of  the  subject,  he  fell  asleep ;  when,  in  his  dreams, 
he  appeared  still  at  work.  Suddenly  the  right  method  flashed 
across  his  mind.  One  step  in  the  process  he  had  omitted,  which 
had  been  the  cause  of  his  repeated  failures.  Relieved  of  his 
burden,  he  slept  the  sound  sleep  of  childhood  till  the  dawn  began 
to  streak  the  east.  Then  rising  from  his  couch,  and  not  waiting 
to  perform  his  simple  toilet,  he  rubbed  the  figures  from  a  piece  of 
bark  he  found  near,  and  went  through  the  whole  example  with 
triumphant  success.  When  his  father  made  his  appearance  in  the 
barn-yard,  with  a  huge  milli-pail  on  either  arm,  our  young  hero 
emerged  from  the  house,  book  in  hand,  and,  with  a  triumphant 
shout,  exclaimed, — 

"I've  done  it,  father !  I've  done  it!  I  found  out  the  right 
way  when  I  was  asleep." 

This  simple  incident,  which  I  have  often  heard  him  relate,  illus- 
trated the  method  by  which  his  father  sought  to  teach  him  patience 
and  perseverance,  —  traits  for  which  he  was  distinguished  in  after 
life.  Perhaps  it  was  to  this  early  discipline  he  was  indebted  for 
the  power  of  concentration  and  perseverance  in  investigating  sub- 
jects of  great  moment.  Indeed,  I  have  often  heard  him  allude, 
with  gratitude,  to  his  father's  rule  of  requiring  his  scholars  to  do 
2 


18 


REMINISCENCES  AND  RECORDS. 


theii-  work  unassisted.  If  our  young  pupils  of  tlie  present  day 
had  less  help  from  parents,  teachers,  and  explanatory  books,  ponies 
in  classics,  and  keys  in  mathematics,  we  might  see  a  generation  of 
more  independent  thinkers. 

Lieutenant-Governor  Gill  owned  a  magnificent  farm.  Immense 
lawns,  from  which  it  was  averred  not  a  single  stone  could  be  picked 
up  ;  splendid  walls,  extending  for  miles  ;  sleek  cattle,  grazing  in  the 
greenest  of  pastures ;  noble  trees,  spreading  their  arms  lovingly 
over  the  velvety  greensward,  —  called  forth  the  admiration  of  every 
beholder.  In  his  large  barns  forty  pleasure  horses  were  kept,  and 
a  herd  of  one  hundred  and  eighty  cattle. 

The  historian  of  Worcester  County,  in  1793,  closes  a  glowing 
description  of  the  seat  of  Hon.  Moses  Gill,  thus:  "Upon  the 
whole,  this  seat  of  Judge  Gill  is  not  paralleled  by  any  in  the  New 
England  States,  perhaps  not  by  any  on  this  side  of  the  Delaware." 

Dr.  Dwight,  then  president  of  Yale  College,  in  17i)7,  speaks  of 
Governor  Gill's  establishment  as  "more  splendid  than  any  other 
in  the  interior  of  the  State,"  though  the  country  surrounding  his 
farm  was  so  desolate,  that  in  attempting  to  make  his  way  to 
Rutland,  "  he  came  very  near  being  lost  for  the  night." 

Within  the  house  every  apartment  exhibited  all  the  accessories  of 
wealth,  culture,  refinement,  and  taste ;  but  the  large  hall,  devoted 
to  the  library,  was  far  the  most  attractive  to  the  young  student. 

Mrs.  Gill  was  the  only  surviving  daughter  of  Rev.  Thomas 


BIBTH  AND  BOYHOOD. 


19 


Prince,  of  Boston,  and  inherited  with  this  immense  farm  a  large 
part  of  her  father's  extensive  and  valuable  library.  To  this,  in  all 
its  departments,  Master  Woods  had  always  enjoyed  free  access ; 
and  to  Leonard  was  promised  the  same  privilege  when  he  was  old 
enough  to  appreciate  it. 

After  Leonard's  success  in  solving  a  difficult  problem,  he  became 
the  leader  of  his  class,  all  of  them  his  seniors  by  some  years. 
Master  Woods  used  often  to  give  out  examples  in  mental  arith- 
metic, and  allow  his  pupils  to  try  who  would  answer  first.  On 
these  occasions  Leonard's  blue  eyes  often  sparkled  with  animation, 
as  he  eagerly  exclaimed,  "I  have  it;  I  can  answer,  father."  It 
was  seldom  he  answered  incorrectly. 

When  the  boy  was  eight  years  old,  his  father  was  ill  during  a 
great  part  of  the  winter.  Leonard,  with  a  dutiful  desire  to  relieve 
him  from  all  anxiety,  took  care  of  the  horses,  cows,  and  oxen  at- 
tached to  their  farm.  In  the  spring,  Master  Woods  one  day  called 
the  lad  to  him,  and  presented  him  with  a  "Barlow  knife,"  telling 
him  that  his  good  conduct  had  been  the  means  of  procuring  him 
the  not  inexpensive  gift.  This  present  may  be  thought  by  some 
a  trifle,  compared  to  the  labor  the  boy  had  performed ;  but  it  must 
be  remembered  that  in  the  last  century  a  knife  with  four  blades, 
for  which  these  "  Barlow  knives  "  were  distinguished,  was  not  to 
be  found  in  every  lad's  pocket.  Indeed,  the  possessor  of  one  was 
an  object  of  attention  and  envy. 


20 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


For  a  year  or  two,  Leonard  worked  diligently  on  his  father's 
farm,  filling  up  his  leisure  hours  with  study.  One  of  his  older 
sisters,  who  had  inherited  much  of  her  father's  strength  of  char- 
acter, was  his  loving  confidante  and  adviser  at  this  period.  His 
mother,  who  was  of  a  sweet,  trusting  spirit,  watched  her  boy 
closely,  and  in  her  heart  began  to  form  plans  for  his  fulure.  She 
saw  him  run  to  his  books  as  though  he  hungered  for  knowledge, 
as  indeed  he  did,  so  that  when  the  providence  of  God  opened  the 
way,  she  was  prepared  to  encourage  him  to  strive  for  a  liberal  edu- 
cation, trusting  in  his  Heavenly  Father  for  the  means. 

When  Leonard  was  about  thirteen  years  old,  he  accompanied  his 
father  and  brother  to  a  swamp,  where  he  remained  at  work  nearly 
all  day.  A  severe  sickness  followed,  from  which  he  recovered  very 
slowly.  As  soon  as  he  was  able  to  sit  up,  he  called  for  his  books, 
and  from  this  time  studied  without  intermission.  Governor  Gill 
saw  the  boy  frequently,  and  found  that  his  great  desire  was  to  go 
to  college.  The  gentleman  went  home  from  one  of  these  inter- 
views saying  to  himself,  "  It  must  be  done.  Yes,  I  shall  send 
for  my  philosopher  at  once." 

The  Governor  was  in  the  habit  of  entertaining  distinguished  men 
at  his  house,  and  giving  dinner  parties,  during  which  grave  sub- 
jects of  church  and  State  were  discussed.  When  these  discus- 
sions became  too  deep  or  too  warm,  Governor  Gill  used  to  say, 
"  I  must  send  for  my  philosopher,  to  give  us  his  opinion." 


BIBTH  AND  BOYHOOD. 


21 


It  was  seldom,  indeed,  that  the  strong  common-sense  and  quiet 
humor  of  Master  Woods  did  not  settle  the  questions  to  the  satis- 
faction of  all  parties. 

Being  requested  to  call  upon  his  neighbor,  Leonard's  father 
obeyed  the  summons,  and  found  the  Governor  in  his  library  alone. 
When  the  boy's  desire  was  repeated  to  his  father,  he  said  with 
great  emotion,  — 

"  Such  a  course  is  impossible.  I  have  not  the  means  to  carry 
him  through  college.  You  are  aware  that  my  son  Abel  is  a  stu- 
dent, and  I  know  the  expense." 

"  Come,  come  !  "  exclaimed  the  Governor.  "  '  Impossible  '  is  a 
hard  word.  I  have  watched  the  lad.  He  is  different  from  other 
boys.  Let  him  try  to  master  Latin.  He  can  recite  to  Parson 
Craft.    I  '11  promise  to  help  him." 

Master  Woods  went  home  and  repeated  this  conversation  to  his 
wife,  who  went  hurriedly  into  her  bedroom  to  give  thanks  to  God. 
For  some  time  the  father  held  back  from  giving  positive  consent ; 
but  the  mother  had  a  firm,  though  secret  conviction  that  the  Lord 
intended  her  son  for  a  clergyman.  This  was  the  highest  object  of 
her  ambition.  Could  a  throne  have  been  offered  the  youth,  it 
would  have  been  nothing  in  comparison.  Leonard  knew  instinc- 
tively that  he  had  his  mother's  full  approbation,  and  that  when  he 
left  home  she  would  do  the  utmost  in  her  power  to  assist  him.  He 
acted  upon  the  suggestion  of  Governor  Gill,  and  when  about  four- 


22 


BEAIINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


teen  recited  two  or  three  times  a  week  to  Rev.  Thomas  Craft,  his 
pastor,  walking  several  miles  for  the  purpose.  The  necessary 
books  were  supplied  by  his  kind  friend.  At  the  age  of  sixteen,  he 
went  to  Leicester  Academy  for  one  quarter.  Here  he  was  so  for- 
tunate as  to  be  under  the  instruction  of  Mr.  Adams,  afterwards 
Professor  of  Mathematics  in  Dartmouth  College.  These  months 
were  all  the  academical  instruction  he  ever  enjoyed ;  and  he  im- 
proved the  privileges  so  well  that  he  obtained  the  next  year  a 
school  in  Leominster,  where  he  gave  universal  satisfaction. 

The  money  being  thus  obtained,  he  begged  his  father  to  allow 
him  at  once  to  apply  for  admission  to  Harvard  College.  His 
mother  added  her  earnest  plea,  and  consent  was  obtained,  though 
his  father  reminded  him  that  he  could  give  him  but  little  pecuniary 
assistance. 


COLLEGE  LIFE. 


23 


CHAPTER  III. 

COLLEGE  LIFE. 

My  father  was  entered  at  Harvard  in  1792,  just  after  he  had 
passed  his  eighteenth  birthday,  and  at  once  made  himself  known 
as  a  diligent  student.  He  drank  deep  at  the  fountain  of  human 
wisdom,  and  maintained  a  high  rank  through  his  entire  course. 
His  friend  and  classmate,  the  Rev.  Samuel  Dana,  of  Marblehead, 
said  of  him  :  "  He  was  decidedly  the  first  member  of  the  class  for 
intellectual  attainment,  among  such  competitors  as  John  Pickering 
and  James  Jackson." 

At  the  time  of  his  leaving  home,  Leonard,  though  well  taught  in 
the  doctrines  of  the  Bible,  had  never  laid  hold  of  Christ,  and,  by 
personal  faith  in  his  atoning  sacrifice,  made  Jesus  his  Saviour. 
The  salutary  influence  which,  under  his  father's  roof,  had  drawn 
him  toward  the  good,  and  caused  him  to  repel  the  bad,  was  now 
withdrawn.  He  found  in  college  life,  trials  and  temptations  of 
which  he  had  never  dreamed. 

At  that  time,  the  low  state  of  morals  throughout  the  country  had 
greatly  affected  the  principles  of  the  Harvard  as  well  as  of  the 
Yale  students.    The  leaven  of  infidelity,  brought  to  our  shores  by 


24 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  BE  COEDS, 


the  French  troops,  who  performed  such  vahiable  service  under 
Lafayette  aud  other  distinguished  generals  in  the  Revolution,  had 
worked  out  its  legitimate  results,  infesting  the  sentiments  of  some 
high  in  official  position,  and  infusing  its  poison  into  the  fountains 
of  learning.  In  Harvard,  scepticism  was  then  the  fashion,  and 
experimental  piety  at  a  great  discount.  During  a  part  of  my 
father's  course,  there  was  only  one  professor  of  religion  in  the 
four  classes.  This  was  John  H.  Church,  afterwards  Rev.  Dr. 
Church,  of  Pelham,  N.  H. 

Leonard's  early  training  prevented  him  from  imbibing  such  fatal 
errors.  When  he  heard  scoffs  at  religion  in  general  or  sneers  at 
individual  piety,  the  thought  of  his  father's  godly  teachings,  the 
fervor  of  his  prayers,  the  recollection  of  his  mother's  kindling 
eye  aud  animated  features  when  the  holy  doctrines  of  salvation  by 
grace  were  discussed,  the  calmness  with  which  she  endured  trials, 
sustained  by  divine  power,  made  him  shrink  with  horror  from  these 
bolder  attacks  upon  the  truth.  But,  alas,  for  the  iniquity  of  the 
uni-egenerate  heart !  The  subtle  reasonings  of  Priestly,  which 
exalt  man  in  the  same  ratio  that  they  depress  God,  gradually 
gained  a  power  over  his  mind.  But  though  among  his  classmates 
he  was  known  to  be  an  admii-er  of  Priestly  and  his  school  of  free- 
thinkers, yet  he  never  could  rid  himself  of  the  feeling  that  the 
doctrines  of  grace,  though  humbling  to  human  pride,  might,  after 
all,  be  the  true  revealings  of  the  Word  of  God.    He  knew  how 


COLLEGE  LIFE. 


25 


precious  these  doctrines  were  to  his  parents  and  to  other  godly 
friends.  He  saw  the  fruit  of  humble  reliance  on  God  in  the  daily 
walk  and  conversation  of  young  Church,  and  confessed  to  himself 
a  desire  to  enjoy  the  same  serenity  and  peace  conspicuous  in  his 
friend.  A  few  weeks  before  his  graduation,  an  event  occurred 
which  gave  intensity  to  this  desire.  He  one  day  'accompanied 
some  classmates  to  Charles  River,  where,  in  a  retired  spot,  they 
were  in  the  habit  of  bathing.  After  a  vigorous  plunge  into  the 
water,  he  waded  out  some  distance  from  his  companions,  when 
they  were  suddenly  startled  by  a  loud  shriek  of  distress,  and  per- 
ceived with  horror  that  he  had  sunk  out  of  sight.  They  hastened 
to  his  assistance,  but  he  had  gone  down  for  the  third  time  before 
he  was  rescued,  and  then,  at  the  risk  of  life  to  the  rescuers.  He 
had  fallen  into  a  sand  pit,  which  at  high  tide  was  completely 
hidden  from  view. 

Never  shall  I  forget  the  emotion  with  which  he  described  this 
scene.  It  is  as  vivid  as  though  I  had  been  present.  "  I  suppose," 
said  my  father,  "  that  from  the  time  I  left  my  companions  to  the 
time  I  was  laid  senseless  on  the  bank,  it  could  not  have  been  over 
five  minutes  ;  but  oh  !  the  thoughts  of  my  past  life  which  flashed 
through  my  mind  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning,  —  memories  of 
my  childhood,  youth,  and  riper  years,  long  since  forgotten,  dis- 
obedience to  my  parents,  unkinduess  to  my  brothers  and  sisters, 
sins  against  my  Heavenly  Father,  ingratitude  to  my  Saviour,  my 


26 


BEMINISCENCES  AKD  REC0BD8. 


low  and  sordid  aims,  my  pride  in  my  moral  character,  my  ambition 
for  the  future,  all  ended  now  !  I  even  thought  of  my  graduation  , 
of  the  fond  hopes  of  my  mother  that  I  should  acquit  myself  in  an 
honorable  manner.  I  thought  of  her  disappointment  as  she  heard 
the  heavy  tidings  of  my  untimely  death,  and  knew  that  the  nice 
suit  of  clothes  prepared  for  that  occasion  by  her  own  hands,  with 
so  many  tender  memories  of  her  boy,  would  be  returned  to  her 
unused.  I  thought  of  life,  which  was  over  for  me ;  of  death, 
judgment,  and  eternity,  to  which  I  was  hastening.  I  tried  to  lay 
hold  of  Christ  as  an  all-sufficient  Saviour.  Then  consciousness 
left  me." 

Vigorous  measures  and  long-continued  efforts  were  necessary  in 
order  to  restore  life  in  the  drowning  man.  He  always  adverted  to 
the  circumstance  with  the  deepest  gratitude  that  he  was  not  tlien 
taken  from  the  world  while  yet  unreconciled  to  God. 

During  most  of  his  college  course  he  alternately  believed  and 
doubted  the  doctrines  of  grace.  To  quote  his  own  words:  "  My 
heart  often  rose  in  rebellion  against  the  divine  requirements, 
especially  those  which  commanded  me  to  renounce  ever}-  method 
of  salvation  except  thi-ough  a  crucified  Saviour.  My  mind,"  he 
says,  "  is  like  the  troubled  sea,  tossed  about  on  the  waves  of 
speculation  and  doubt."  "  Through  all  this  dark  period,"  he 
says,  "  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  my  ideal  of  virtue.  AVhether 
he  be  man,  angel,  or  God,  there  is  something  in  the  character  of 


COLLEGE  LIFE. 


27 


Jesus  Christ  which  attracts  and  warms  the  soul.  I  had  rather  fol- 
low him,  or  be  like  him,  than  to  excel  the  most  illustrious  name  in 
the  history  of  the  world." 

In  regard  to  his  conversion  :  — 

"  No  experimental  means  were  tried  upon  him ;  no  excited 
assembly  operated  upon  his  mind  and  heart,  but  in  the  anguish 
of  his  spirit  he  knelt  down,  and  clasping  his  Bible,  he  raised  it 
over  him,  as  did  John  Huss,  and  cried,  '  O  God,  my  Lord,  and 
master  of  my  life.'  Henceforth  Christ  was  to  him  all  in  all ;  the 
beginning,  the  middle,  and  the  end  of  his  theology  and  his 
life."  * 

He  was  graduated  in  1796,  bearing  with  him  the  first  awards  of 
scholarship.  At  Commencement  he  had  the  highest  appointment, 
and  delivered  an  oration  on  the  subject,  "  Envy  wishes,  then 
believes,"  which  was  received  with  great  applause. 

Three  years  later  he  took  his  second  degree,  when,  as  before,  ,. 
the  first  oration  was  assigned  him.    Both  these  productions  were 
published,  and  are  still  preserved  in  the  archives  of  the  library 
in  Cambridge.     A  popular  newspaper  of  the  time,  called  the 
Columbia  Centinel,  thus  speaks  of  the  latter  oration  :  — 

"  The  best  performance  of  the  day  was  the  oration  on  Atheism 


*  History  of  the  Essex  North  Association. 


28 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


by  Rev.  Mr.  Woods.  lu  this  half-hour  sketch,  the  existence  and 
attributes  of  a  Supreme  Intelligence  were  demonstrated  by  in- 
vincible argument,  and  displayed  with  dignified  eloquence.  His 
remarks  were  pointed,  but  thej'  were  not  severe ;  his  precepts 
pious,  but  liberal,  and  his  eloquence  dignified  and  energetic,  but 
not  boisterous.  In  short,  he  was  a  champion  in  the  cause  of  his 
Redeemer  and  country.  He  received  the  liberal  plaudits  of  a 
grateful  auditory." 

At  this  period,  writes  one  who  knew  him  well:  "Mr.  AVoods 
was  six  feet  two  inches  in  height,  perfectly  erect  and  well  pro- 
portioned, and  possessed  a  dignity  and  grace  of  manner  which 
impressed  every  one  in  his  favor.  His  black  hair,  which  curled 
slightly,  was  worn  long,  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  times. 
His  pleasant,  earnest,  blue  eyes,  his  animated  countenance,  and 
his  exquisite  teeth,  which  to  his  dying  day  never  made  acquaint- 
ance with  a  dentist,  were  a  letter  of  recommendation  to  him 
wherever  he  went.  In  disposition,  he  united  the  strength  of 
his  father's  character  with  the  sweet,  loving,  trusting  nature  of 
his  mother." 

Through  the  kindness  of  some  of  his  classmates,  I  have  been 
able  to  add  to  the  reports  I  have  received  of  the  college  records, 
in  regard  to  my  father's  course  in  Harvard.  From  Dr.  James 
Kendall,  of  Plymouth,  Mass.,  I  copy  the  following  letter,  which 
will  explain  itself  :  — 


COLLEGE  LIFE. 


29 


Plymouth,  Sept.  9,  1854. 

Mrs.  Leonard  Woods  : 

Dear  Madam,  —  Please  excuse  the  liberty  I  have  taken,  with 
only  a  transient  acquaintance,  to  intrude  upon  the  sacredness  of 
domestic  bereavement,  with  a  view  to  express  my  sympathy  and 
condolence  with  you  in  the  recent  departure  of  your  revered  and 
beloved  husband.  My  apology,  if  an  apology  be  necessary,  is 
my  long  and  intimate  acquaintance  with  Dr.  Woods,  commencing 
more  than  sixty  years  ago ;  an  acquaintance  of  uninterrupted  sat- 
isfaction and  pleasure,  and  an  intercourse,  so  far  as  I  know,  of 
unbroken  harmony. 

Although  our  theological  inquii'ies  and  associations  may  have 
led  to  something  of  different  results,  yet  as  respects  the  spirit  and 
character  necessary  to  fit  us  for  acceptance  with  the  Father,  and 
an  intercourse  with  the  spirits  of  the  just,  I  am  confident  there 
was  no  difference. 

It  is  among  my  most  pleasant  memories  to  look  back  upon  an 
acquaintance  which  commenced  when  we  were  candidates  for  ad- 
mission to  Harvard  University  in  1792,  without  recollecting  a 
single  instance  of  unkind  feeling,  or  an  unfriendly  utterance 
between  us.  No  two  scholars  in  the  class  were  more  intimate 
than  we  were,  and,  if  we  take  the  opinion  of  the  College  Gov- 
ernment at  the  time  for  a  standard,  no  two  ranked  higher ;  that 


30 


REMINISCENCES  AND  BECORDS. 


is  to  say,  the  two  English  orations,  the  highest  parts  given 
out  at  our  Commencement,  were  assigned  to  Dr.  Woods  and 
myself. 

I  well  remember  the  gratification  I  felt  in  being  thought  worthy, 
as  a  scholar,  of  holding  rank  as  second  to  him.  I  mention  this 
incident  merely  to  show  that  our  relative  position  as  scholars 
awakened  no  unpleasant  rivalry,  nor  interrupted  for  a  moment  the 
harmony  and  mutual  kindness  between  us  ;  and  I  will  add  in  this 
connection  that  I  have  no  recollection,  during  our  collegiate  course, 
of  a  single  act  of  his  life,  or  a  single  utterance  of  his  lips,  that  he 
or  his  friends  would  have  wished  to  have  been  otherwise.  This,  I 
am  aware,  is  saying  a  good  deal,  but  if  there  had  been  anything 
very  noticeable  I  should  have  remembered  and  regretted  it.  Our 
security  under  Providence  might  have  been  owing  in  part  to  our 
being  a  little  in  advance,  as  respects  age,  of  most  of  the  under- 
graduates ;  Dr.  "Woods  having  entered  college  in  his  nineteenth 
year,  and  I  in  my  twenty-third.  We  both  went  to  college  for  the 
purpose  of  an  education,  and  at  no  time,  I  believe,  were  in  much 
doubt  as  to  the  choice  of  a  profession.  At  our  age,  there  was  less 
temptation  to  join  in  the  follies  and  improprieties  which  sometimes 
mark  the  course  of  an  under-graduate  in  college.  Of  one  thing  I 
am  quite  sure,  for  I  have  a  distinct  recollection  of  the  fact,  that 
neither  of  us  was  subjected  io  fine,  to  admonition,  or  the  sUcjhtest 
reproof,  even,  for  delinquency  in  our  college  studies,  or  disregard 


COLLEGE  LIFE. 


31 


of  the  rules  and  requirements  during  our  connection  with  the 
university. 

It  may  be  some  satisfaction  and  comfort,  in  this  hour  of  your 
trial,  to  have  this  testimony  of  an  intimate  friend  and  classmate 
to  the  purity  and  correctness  of  your  beloved  husband's  character 
during  this  interesting  period  of  his  early  life.  Of  his  character, 
fidelity,  and  labors  as  a  Christian  minister  and  theological  pro- 
fessor during  the  last  half-century,  you  need  not  the  testimony  of 
a  personal  friend.  You  are  compassed  about  hy  a  clotid  of  wit- 
nesses, who  are  ready  to  testify  to  his  fidelity  and  successful  labors 
in  the  service  of  the  Master. 

Soon  after  his  graduation,  he  went  to  Medford,  Mass.,  where  he 
had  accepted  an  invitation  to  teach,  hoping  in  this  manner  to  earn 
funds  sufficient  to  carry  him  through  his  professional  studies.  He 
remained  in  Medford  till  August,  1797,  when  he  went  to  Princeton. 

At  his  mother's  knee  he  had  learned  the  answer  to  this  question, 
"What  is  the  chief  end  of  man?"  "To  glorify  God,  and  to 
enjoy  him  forever."  How  shall  I  best  glorify  God?  was  the  ques- 
tion which  now  was  ever  present  to  his  ardent  mind.  His  Heavenly 
Father  did  not  long  leave  hii^  in  doubt  concerning  his  will.  In  an 
affecting  interview  with  his  parents,  he  announced  to  them  the  new 
hopes  which  animated  his  breast,  and  the  earnest  desires  he  experi- 
enced, to  devote  himself  to  the  work  of  preaching  the  gospel  of 


32 


REMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


salvation  to  his  fellow-men,  receiving  theii-  cordial  approbation  and 
their  prayers  for  his  success. 

He  repaired  to  Somers,  Conn.,  and  placed  himself  under  the 
care  of  Dr.  Charles  Backus.  This  gentleman  was  an  eminent 
divine,  whose  reputation  as  a  teacher  drew  about  him  some  of  the 
most  prominent  students  in  New  England. 

The  three  months  passed  in  Somers  were  most  happy  ones, 
always  referred  to  with  a  kindling  eye,  as  among  the  most  profit- 
able of  his  life. 


SETTLEMENT  IN  WEST  ^EWBUEY. 


33 


CHAPTER  lY. 

SETTLEMENT  IN  WEST  NEWBURY. 

In  the  spring  of  1798,  he  was  licensed  to  preach  by  the  Cam- 
bridge Association,  and  a  few  months  later  was  called  to  settle 
over  the  Thu'd  Parish  in  "West  Newbury,  Mass.,  from  which  Dr. 
Tappan  had  recently  been  removed,  to  become  HoUis  Professor  in 
Harvard  College.  It  was  not,  however,  without  much  hesitation 
that  he  accepted  the  call,  arising  from  conscientious  scruples  in 
regard  to  their  creed.  His  frankness  led  him  to  make  a  full  state- 
ment of  his  reasons  of  delay  in  acceptiug  theu-  call.  The  personal 
attachment  of  many  members  of  the  parish  to  Mr.  Woods,  and  the 
influence  of  some  prominent  neighboring  clergymen,  led  to  a  modifi- 
cation of  their  views,  and  they  renewed  the  call,  which  he  accepted. 

The  ordination  took  place  Dec.  5,  1798,  Dr  Osgood,  of  Medford, 
Mass.,  preaching  the  sermon.  I  quote  one  paragraph,  which  has 
particular  reference  to  the  young  clergyman  :  —  * 

"  Your  present  choice,  in  the  esteem  of  all  who  are  acquainted 
with  the  man,  does  honor  to  your  discernment.  I  am  persuaded 
that  one  so  amiable  will  not  disappoint  your  just  expectations." 


*  Copied  from  letters  in  History  of  the  Andover  Seminary. 


34 


REMINISCENCES  AND  RECORDS. 


A  friend  residing  in  New  Hampshire  assures  me  that  her  mother 
rode  on  horseback  a  distance  of  sixteen  miles  to  the  ordination, 
and  on  her  arrival  found,  to  her  great  disappointment,  the  house 
so  crowded  that  she  could  not  obtain  admittance.  The  terms  of 
settlement,  as  copied  from  the  church  record,  sound  singularly  to 
us  in  these  days.    They  were  as  follows  :  — 

"The  parish  voted  to  give  Mr.  Woods  four  hundred  dollars 
annually  ;  also  five  hundred  dollars  by  way  of  settlement,  with  the 
use  of  the  parsonage  land  by  the  meeting-house,  and  eight  cords 
of  wood  annually,  with  the  liberty  of  going  to  see  his  parents  for 
two  Sabbaths  every  year," 

At  the  present  day  this  sum  appears  to  us  ridiculously  small ; 
but  his  devoted  people  took  care  that  he  should  never  want.  A 
box  of  new  butter,  fresh  eggs,  or  a  heave  shoulder,  often  carried 
to  the  pastor,  testified  to  the  affection  of  the  parishioners. 

In  October,  1799,  my  father  was  married  to  Abby  Wheeler, 
daughter  of  Rev.  Joseph  Wheeler,  a  graduate  of  Harvard  College 
in  1757.  He  was  ordained  in  the  town  of  Harvard  in  1759,  but 
his  settlement  and  usefulness  there  were  suddenly  cut  short  by  the 
loss  of  his  voice.  Soon  after  the  commencement  of  the  Revolu- 
tionary War,  Mr.  Wheeler  zealously  engaged  in  the  cause  of  his 
country,  and  was  chosen  a  member  of  the  Provincial  Congress, 
representative  to  the  General  Court,  and  a  member  of  the  Com- 
mittee of  Correspondence.    The  night  before  Bunker  Hill  battle 


SETTLEMENT  IN  WEST  NEWBUBT. 


35 


he  volunteered,  with  five  others,  to  go  to  the  hill,  and  they  staked 
out  the  ground  for  the  intrenchment  which  was  thrown  up  during 
the  night.  After  the  arrival  of  General  "Washington  at  Cambridge, 
Mr.  Wheeler  was  chaplain  of  his  staff.  After  the  war  he  was  ap- 
pointed Justice  of  the  Quorum  for  AVorcester  County,  and  Eegister 
of  Probate,  which  offices  he  held  till  his  death. 

"  Mr.  Woods's  marriage  and  settlement  in  his  own  home  were 
made  the  occasion  of  a  great  festival  in  Newbury.  Forty  couples 
in  forty  '  shays,'  the  fashionable  vehicle  of  the  period,  set  out  to 
meet  their  pastor,  and  escort  him  with  his  bride  to  their  new  home. 
The  lady,  dressed  in  corsage  and  trailing  skirts  of  blue  lutestring 
silk,  white  satin  cloak  trimmed  with  ermine,  with  jockey  hat,  blue 
tipped  feathers,  high-heeled  shoes  of  blue  kid,  and  brightly  bloom- 
ing cheeks,  with  sweet  gentleness  and  warmth  of  manner,  took  all 
hearts  by  storm. 

"  On  reaching  the  new  home,  where  nearly  all  the  parish  had 
assembled,  the  guests  alighted  and  welcomed  the  bride,  after  which 
all  partook  of  a  lavish  feast  provided  by  loving  hearts  for  the 
occasion." 

At  this  distance  of  time  it  is  difficult  to  gather  much  in  relation 
to  Mr.  Woods's  settlement  in  West  Newbury.  A  letter  kindly  sent 
me,  found  in  the  possession  of  Mrs.  Lydia  Poore,  grandmother  of 
Benjamin  Perley  Poore,  assures  me  of  his  faithfulness  as  a  pastor, 
who  watched  for  the  souls  of  his  people  as  one  who  must  give  an 


36 


REMINISCENCES  AND  BEGORDS. 


account.  One  aged  gentleman  now  living,  in  relating  what  he 
remembered  of  his  earliest  religious  teacher,  says:  "I  went  to 
school  with  his  two  oldest  boys,  aud  to  his  catechising  on  Saturday 
afternoons.  When  we  pulled  ears  or  quarrelled  during  the  week, 
we  had  to  be  hauled  up  for  it  at  the  catechising." 

An  incident  which  occurred  during  his  residence  in  West  New- 
bury has  been  vouched  for  by  a  distinguished  New  England 
clergyman :  — 

"  In  the  early  part  of  Dr.  Woods's  ministry,  he  was  one  of  an 
ansociation  of  clergymen  convoked  to  examine  a  young  candidate 
for  the  sacred  office.  AVhen  the  young  theologian  had  been 
questioned,  and  had  satisfied  the  examiners  in  regard  to  his  literary 
qualifications,  they  proceeded  to  inquire  relative  to  his  personal 
experience,  and  his  motives  for  desiring  to  enter  the  ministry.  He 
went  on  for  some  time  until  the  moderator  asked  what  the  High 
Hopkiusians  called  '  the  test  question ' :  'I  should  like  you  to 
state  definitely,  sir,  whether  you  ai'e  willing  to  be  damned,  should 
such  be  foreordained  to  be  your  doom.' 

"The  candidate  hesitated;  his  face  blanched.  He  could  not 
answer  in  the  affirmative.    What  should  he  say? 

"  Mr.  Woods,  perceiving  the  embarrassment  of  the  young  student, 
said  in  his  usually  calm  manner :  '  Perhaps  I  can  put  the  question 
in  a  little  different  form,  aud  in  a  way  that  will  relieve  the  candi- 
date.   Will  you  state,  sir,  whether  you  would  be  willing,  under 


SETTLEMENT  IN  WEST  NEWBUBY. 


37 


the  circumstances  mentioned,  that  the  moderator  should  be 
damned?' 

"  '  Perfectly,  sii-,  perfectly,  if  such  is  God's  will.' 

"  Such  a  declaration  must  have  been  considered  sufficiently 
orthodox,  for,  after  a  hearty  laugh,  the  association  proceeded  to 
vote  that  the  candidate  be  licensed." 

During  the  ten  years  of  his  residence  in  West  Newbury,  Mr. 
Woods's  pen  was  not  idle.  Among  his  letters  I  find  the  following 
from  Dr.  Spring,  of  Newburyport :  "I  take  this  opportunity  to 
express  my  deepest  gratitude  for  the  wise  and  masterly  manner  in 
which  your  question  was  considered  yesterday  before  the  San- 
hedrim." 

In  1803,  the  Massachusetts  Missionary  Magazine  was  com- 
menced, when  Dr.  Spring  solicited  and  obtained  aid  from  the  pen 
of  the  young  pastor. 

In  1805,  Dr.  Morse,  of  Charlestown,  projected  a  monthly  maga- 
zine, to  be  called  the  Panoplist,  and  of  this  journal  the  pastor  at 
West  Newbury  was  appointed  joint  editor.  The  spirit  with  which 
he  entered  on  this  latter  task  can  best  be  described  by  a  note  he 
addressed  to  Dr.  Morse  on  the  issue  of  the  first  number  :  — 

"  To-day  Panoplist  is  born,  and  I  hope  it  will  live  to  grow  up 
and  be  a  good  man.  I  hope  and  pray  that  there  may  not  be  a 
spice  of  ill-nature  in  it.  This  does  not  belong  to  the  Christian 
armor." 


38 


EEMINISCENCES  AND  REC0BD8. 


CHAPTER  V. 

DIVINITY  SCHOOL. 

But  his  Heavenly  Father  had  still  more  important  work  for  his 
young  servant.  In  brief,  it  may  be  said  that  both  Dr.  Spring  and 
Dr.  Morse  were  projecting  plans  for  a  school,  where  young  men 
could  be  trained  for  the  ministry ;  and  each  of  these  gentlemen, 
unknown  to  the  other,  fixed  on  the  Newbury  pastor  as  suitable  for 
the  chair  of  Theology.  It  is  impossible,  in  a  brief  sketch  like 
this,  to  give  any  account  of  the  long  and  tedious  delays  before  the 
final  result  of  the  two  schools,  with  their  two  sets  of  founders,  was 
reached.  It  is  suflScient  hei-e  to  say,  that  at  length  everj'  question 
was  happily  settled,  and  the  new  seminary,  surmounting  all  ob- 
stacles, went  into  operation  Sept.  28,  1808.  To  quote  from  the 
Columbia  Centinel:  "  Prof essor  Woods  delivered  his  inaugural  ora- 
tion on  the  Glory  and  Excellence  of  the  Gospel.  The  assembly, 
convened  from  various  parts  of  the  country  on  this  most  interest- 
ing occasion,  was  numerous  and  highly  respectable.  The  day  was 
delightful,  and  the  satisfaction  generally  expressed  gave  great 
pleasure  to  the  friends  of  the  institution." 

In  1810  the  young  Professor  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of 


DIVINITY  SCHOOL. 


39 


Divinity  from  Dartmouth  College  ;  also,  the  same  year,  from  the 
College  of  New  Jersey. 

Of  the  sentiments  of  affection  and  respect  entertained  for  the 
memory  of  Dr.  Woods  by  his  former  pupils,  I  have  such  abundant 
proof  that  I  can  only  make  a  selection  here  and  there.  In  a  letter 
I  have  received  from  an  able  clergyman  iu  Maine,  he  says  :  "  Dr. 
Woods  was  one  of  the  most  evenly  balanced  men  I  ever  knew.  .  .  . 
His  mind  was  equally  massive  and  powerful.  Trained  to  theo- 
logical thought,  he  had  traversed  the  whole  ground  of  biblical 
teaching,  and  had  well-considered  opinions  on  all  subjects  pertain- 
ing to  the  lecture-room  and  the  pulpit.  He  did  as  much,  and  per- 
haps more,  to  shape  the  course  of  theological  thought  during  the 
days  of  his  prime  and  vigor,  than  any  other  man  then  living  in 
New  England.  ...  So  well  had  he  considered  all  the  points  of 
the  subject  of  which  he  was  treating,  that  he  had  a  reply  to  every 
objection,  an  answer  to  every  question,  a  solution  for  every  doubt, 
and  light,  if  there  was  any,  for  every  dark  spot.  Whenever,  as 
was  sometimes  the  case,  a  student  with  the  skill  of  a  gladiator 
attempted  to  annihilate  him,  or  push  him  into  a  narrow  place,  he 
was  always  sure  to  floor  his  antagonist,  and  leave  no  opponent 
before  him.  Then  the  class  would  laughingly  say  afterward, 
'  The  doctor  can't  be  cornered.'  " 

"I  am  not  given,"  wrote  Dr.  William  Goodell,  missionary  to 
Constantinople,  "  to  strong  professions  in  the  line  of  paying  hom- 


40 


BEMINISCENGES  AND  RECORDS. 


age  to  fellow-mortals,  but  I  can  honestly  say,  that  I  think  I  was 
never  so  much  in  danger  of  something  approaching  idolatry,  in 
regard  to  the  character  and  teachings  of  any  man,  as  in  regard  to 
Dr.  Woods.  To  call  him  a  model  and  a  master  as  a  theological 
teacher,  is  but  a  very  moderate  compliment  to  one  who,  in  my 
estimation,  had  no  compeers,  and  will  not  soon  be  likely  to  have 
them." 

It  is  with  difficulty  I  turn  from  letter  after  letter,  from  among 
the  most  eminent  divines  of  that  time,  expressing  and  re-enforcing 
the  above  sentiments. 

"  His  wi'itten  works  are  in  five  octavo  volumes.  His  unwritten 
works  are  woven  into  the  character  and  wisdom  and  labors  and 
success  of  his  many  pupils,  scattered  all  over  the  world.  The 
portrait  in  the  first  volume  gives  you  a  true  but  faint  idea  of  that 
calm,  gentle,  patient,  and  thoughtful  face,  into  which  we  so  often 
guzed.  He  was  tall  in  stature,  finely  proportioned,  with  a  mild, 
pure,  blue  eye.  When  I  first  knew  him  I  was  a  boy,  and  was 
always  delighted  with  the  privilege  of  hearing  his  genial,  enlighten- 
ing, and  often  mirthful  conversation.  He  seldom  told  a  story  ; 
but  when  he  did,  it  had  point  and  power. 

"  When  we  were  'Juniors,'  we  dreaded  to  leave  the  enthusiasm 
of  Professor  Stuart  for  the  cool  lecture-room  of  Dr.  Woods.  We 
thought  his  presence  would  make  the  atmosphere  uncomfortable. 
But  when  we  came  near  him  and  to  know  him.  we  loved  him  as  a 


DIVINITY  SCHOOL. 


41 


teacher,  and  revered  him  almost  as  a  father.  We  found  him  not 
surprising  us  by  startling  originality,  or  new  theories,  or  giving 
new  names  to  old  things.  He  never  cultivated  prongs,  but  we 
found  his  thoughts  clear  as  distilled  water.  There  was  no  color 
in  his  light,  but  he  had  the  power  of  throwing  off  all  that  was  ex- 
traneous to  the  subject  in  hand,  then  of  holding  it  up  patiently 
and  carefully  in  the  light  of  the  Bible,  and,  unemotionally,  urging 
his  views  with  logic  unsurpassed.  This  power  of  discarding  all 
that  was  not  relevant  would  have  given  him  a  high  position  as  a 
lawyer  had  he  chosen  that  profession.  Most  patiently  would  he 
wait  for  the  slowest  battalion  of  the  army ;  and  for  patience  in 
listening  to  every  possible  objection,  and  then  candidly  meeting 
and  answering  them,  I  have  never  met  his  equal. 

"He  read  human  nature  admirably.  I  recollect  that  when  my 
class  came  to  the  subject  of  baptism,  there  not  happening  to  be  any 
Baptist  brother  in  the  class,  we  appointed  one  to  present  the  Bap- 
tist side  of  the  question.  This  he  did,  and  so  strongly  that  the 
Professor  requested  the  class  to  appoint  a  man  to  reply.  The 
class  concurred,  but  referred  the  appointment  back  to  him.  He 
immediately  appointed  the  same  man  to  meet  his  own  arguments ! 
The  recitations  of  the  class  were  suspended  a  week  to  give  the 
man  time  to  prepare  himself.  The  answer  was  deemed  satis- 
factory to  the  class,  and  this  wisdom  of  Dr.  Woods  not  unlikely 
saved  the  j'oung  man  from  taking  sides,  and  becoming  a  Baptist ! 


42 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  BECOEDS. 


The  key  to  the  power  of  Dr.  Woods  (and  his  was  a  mighty  power) 
was :  — 

"  That  he  patiently  and  prayerfully  adopted  his  belief. 

"  That  he  plainly  and  fully  taught  that  belief. 

"That  he  gave,  clearly,  his  reasons  for  it ;  and  then  showed 
how  he  met,  obviated,  and  removed  objections  and  difficulties. 

"  It  will  readily  be  inferred  that  when  every  pupil  had  the  liberty 
to  state  any  objection  or  doubt  or  difficulty  he  felt,  there  could  be 
but  a  few  theological  corners  that  were  not  explored  or  but  a  few 
phases  which  were  not  presented.  We  often  wrestled  with  him, 
and  knew  that  we  were  wrestling  against  odds,  but  the  giant  would 
lay  us  on  the  ground  so  gently  that  there  was  no  mortification  in 
the  fall. 

"  He  was  the  professor  of  theology  in  Andoxer  thirty-eight  years. 
His  works  show  what  theology  was  taught  there  during  these 
years ;  and  his  pupils  who  have  honored  him  and  the  seminary, 
as  pastors,  missionaries,  presidents  of  colleges,  professors  in  sem- 
inaries and  colleges,  and  the  like,  have  all,  consciously  or  uncon- 
sciously, felt  his  power  through  all  their  lives.  Few  men  ever 
handled  so  much  error,  aud  had  so  little  of  its  dust  cleave  to 
them. 

"  The  reverence  that  Dr.  Woods  paid  to  the  Bible  was  deep  and 
earnest.  He  ever  taught  that  what  the  sun  is  to  the  earth,  —  light 
find  heat,  —  that  the  Bible  is  to  the  church.  I  cannot  too  earnestly 


DIVINITY  SCHOOL. 


43 


recommend  the  works  of  Dr.  Woods  to  all  my  young  brethren  in 
the  ministry  as  a  wonderful  model  of  pure  English,  as  a  specimen  ' 
of  fair,  manly  argument,  an  example  of  logic  not  '  set  on  fire,' 
but  pure  as  quicksilver,  and  a  mine  of  the  old  Bible  theology  of 
New  England.  To  be  sure,  there  is  no  Jehu-driving  ;  there  is  no 
effort  at  originality  ;  but  there  is  the  power  of  conviction,  of  clear 
statement,  and  of  Bible  truth. 

"  Did  he.  in  his  good  old  age,  have  any  forebodings  of  evils 
coming  upon  the  church?  Old  men  usually  have  such.  I  think 
he  betrays  a  little  of  it  in  the  admirable  dedication  of  his  'Works ' 
to  his  former  pupils ;  but  such  clouds  did  not  hang  over  him 
long,  and  he  felt  like  Joseph :  '  I  die ;  but  God  will  surely  visit 
you.' 

"  As  a  controversialist,  for  candor,  gentleness,  and  patience,  I 
know  not  how  he  could  be  excelled.  If  the  reader  can  find  any- 
thing in  this  line  superior  to  his  '  Letters  to  Dr.  Ware,'  I  know  not 
where.  They  completely  meet  every  objection  and  difficulty ;  so 
completely  that  Dr.  Ware  plainly  told  his  readers  that  if  Dr. 
Woods  seemed  to  be  master  of  the  field,  they  must  attribute  it  to 
his  skill,  and  not  to  the  views  he  advocated  !  He  never  transfixed 
his  opponent  by  hurling  the  spear  of  Ulysses  through  him,  but 
bore  down  with  logic,  till  his  opponent  was  ready  to  cry  out  with 
the  honest  Quaker,  '  O,  argument,  argument !  The  Lord  i-ebuke 
thee ! ' 


44 


REMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


"•  These  mature  life-thoughts  may  not  be  in  fashion  to-day. 
We  want  phosphorus  and  the  sparkling  shadows  of  thought ;  but 
the  time  will  come  when  the  prophet's  bones  will  again  impart  life, 
and  the  influence  of  such  men  shall  have  a  resurrection,  —  perhaps 
many,  —  and  their  influence  come  out  a  living  power  from  their 
tombs,  again  and  again." 

One  illustration  of  his  method  of  dealing  with  men  who  insisted 
on  getting  from  him  such  answers  as  he  did  not  think  it  best  to 
give,  I  have  received  from  his  successor  in  the  chair  of  theology. 

Lecture-Room.  Student.  "Do  not  your  arguments  for  the 
immortality  of  the  human  soul  prove  the  immortality  of  brutes  ?  " 

Dr.  Woods.  "The  argument  would  still  be  a  good  one,  if  it 
did  prove  the  immortality  of  brutes." 

Student.    "  But  do  you  believe  that  brutes  are  immortal? " 

Dr  Woods.  "  I  do  not  say  that  they  are  immortal.  I  only  say 
that  my  argument  would  be  a  sound  one,  if  it  proved  their  immor- 
tality." 

SiDDENT.  "But  is  it  not  absurd  to  suppose  that  brutes  are 
immortal  ?  " 

Dr.  Woods.    "  No  ;  it  is  not  absurd." 

Student.  "  Hut  do  you  not  treat  them  as  if  you  disbelieved 
their  immortality?" 

Dr.  Woods.    "  No  ;  I  always  mean  to  treat  them  in  such  a  way 


DIVINITY  SCHOOL. 


45 


that  if  they  should  meet  me  in  the  other  world,  they  would  have 
no  cause  to  reproach  me." 

,   Another  time  a  pupil,  equally  persistent,  asked,  — 

"  Do  you  say  that  a  free  agent  never  does  choose  a  smaller 

rather  than  a  larger  good  ?  " 

Dr.  Woods.    "  Yes  ;  he  never  does." 

Student.    "But,  suppose  that  he  should  choose  a  good  repre- 
sented by  one,  rather  than  a  good  represented  by  four?  " 
Dr.  Woods.    "  He  would  not  choose  it." 

Student.    "  But  have  I  not  a  right  to  suppose  that  he  would?  " 

Dr.  Woods.  "  Oh,  yes !  But  if  he  should  choose  as  you  sup- 
pose he  would,  then  he  would  choose  as  I  suppose  he  never 
would." 

Student.  "But  what  would  you  think  of  a  man  who  should 
choose  the  least  of  two  goods? " 

Dr.  Woods.  "  Well,  I  should  think  that  as  far  as  the  will  was 
concerned,  the  man  was  decidely  spavined.'' 

It  was  especially  during  the  earlier  years  of  his  professorship  in 
Andover  that  Dr.  Woods  was  pressed  into  the  work  of  publicly 
refuting  some  errors  in  doctrine,  particularly  the  German  theory  of 
inspiration  as  unsettling  to  the  faith  of  Protestant  Christians. 
His  letters,  in  answer  to  these  urgent  pleas  that  he  would  enter  on 
the  work  of  controversy,  prove  that  he  shrank  from  the  task.  It 


46 


REMmiSCENCES  AND  BECORDS. 


was  uncongenial.  He  begged  to  be  excused,  —  urged  that  others 
undertake  it ;  but  the  spirit  manifested  in  his  replies  proved  to 
them  that  he  was  the  one.  He  would  speak  the  truth  fearlessly, 
and  he  would  speak  it  in  love. 

His  own  theory  was,  that  the  Bible,  and  the  Bible  alone,  was 
the  standard  of  faith  and  practice.  He  believed  in  plenary  inspi- 
ration, which  was,  that  the  Holy  Spirit's  superintendence  of  the 
divine  record  was  such  as  to  preserve  the  writers  from  all  error  of 
statement,  while  at  the  same  time,  not  overriding  their  liberty  of 
thought  and  expression. 

The  German  theory,  which  he  was  combating,  was  the  opposite 
extreme  from  verbal  inspiialiou,  and  was  essentially  rationalistic, 
in  that  it  made  the  individual  reason  the  supreme  judge  of  the 
contents  of  the  Holy  Scriptures. 

When  his  conscience  told  him  that  duty  demanded  his  voice  or 
his  pen,  he  stepped  at  ouce  into  the  ranks,  nor  did  he  flinch  until 
he  had  done  all  he  could  to  vanquish  those  he  considered  enemies 
to  truth.  But  though  he  used  every  fair  argument  to  enforce  the 
views  he  beUeved  taught  in  the  "Word  of  God,  toward  the  opponent 
himself  he  cherished  none  but  the  kindest  feelings.  This  could 
scarcely  be  otherwise,  since  he  never  sent  out  a  controversial  letter 
until  he  had  committed  it  to  God  in  devout  and  earnest  prayer. 

His  discussion  with  Dr.  Ware  was  with  regard  to  the  true  and 
proper  deity  of  our  Lord  .Jesus  Christ.    This  doctrine  he  defended 


DIVmiTT  SCHOOL. 


47 


strongly  in  New  England.  He  held  the  Catholic  faith  on  this  sub- 
ject of  the  Church  of  the  Nicean  age.  His  work  as  a  pacificator 
of  various  schools  of  Calvinists  was  mainly  in  connection  with 
these  latter  controversies.  In  regard  to  the  spirit  manifested 
in  one  of  these  controversies,  Dr.  Elias  Cornelius  wrote:  "Dr. 
"Woods's  letters  to  Dr.  Ware  rank  among  the  best  specimens  of 
controversial  writings,  because  baptized  with  the  Spirit  sent  down 
in  answer  to  the  prayers  of  the  writer." 

During  the  height  of  the  controversy  just  alluded  to,  Dr.  Woods 
attended  the  Commencement  at  Cambridge,  and  was  shown  to  a 
seat  on  the  stage  next  his  opponent.  A  literary  gentleman  in  the 
audience,  greatly  interested  in  the  letters  passing  between  these 
two  divines,  but  not  personally  acquainted  with  either  of  them, 
inquired  of  a  friend,  "  Who  are  those  two  sitting  side  by  side  who 
are  so  intimate?  "  When  told  that  they  were  the  public  exponents 
of  the  two  most  prominent  religious  parties  of  the  day,  his  sur- 
prise at  their  cordiality  and  friendliness  was  great. 

John  Pye  Smith,  in  the  London  Eclectic  Review,  says  of  another 
controversy,  at  the  close  of  a  long  article  on  the  subject:  "The 
soundness  of  Dr.  Woods's  argument  is  not  the  only  merit  which 
these  letters  possess.  They  afford  an  excellent  example  of  the 
close  and  pressing  pursuit  of  an  antagonist,  without,  as  we  can 
perceive,  the  slightest  improper  feeling.  There  is  no  vaunting,  no 
contempt ;  there  are  no  anathemas  and  no  imputations,  but  mauy 


48 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  RECORDS. 


serious  and  seasonably  cautious  words,  —  the  fruit  of  experience 
and  sound  piety." 

To  quote  from  his  own  words  in  regard  to  the  spirit  of  contro- 
versies :  "I  have  seen,"  he  said,  "  that  it  has  so  often  injured  the 
beauty  of  men's  characters  and  cooled  the  ardor  of  their  piety,  that 
I  have  earnestly  endeavored  to  avoid  the  danger." 


CONNECTION  WITH  BENEVOLENT  SOCIETIES. 


49 


CHAPTER  VI. 

CONNECTION  WITH  BENEVOLENT  SOCIETIES. 

To  quote  from  Rev.  John  Todd,  D.  D.,  in  the  Recorder:  "Dr, 
"Woods  belonged  to  a  generation  who  had  to  think  calmly,  deeply, 
carefully,  as  they  laid  those  plans  which  embraced  theological 
seminaries,  foreign  missions,  home  missions,  the  education  of  the 
young  for  the  ministry,  the  Bible,  the  tract,  the  colonization  and 
the  temperance  societies,  and  all  those  grand  schemes  which  en- 
circle the  globe  in  theii-  results."  Dr.  Woods  was  the  confidant 
and  adviser  of  the  first  four  young  men  whose  hearts  turned  toward 
a  ministry  to  the  heathen.  In  the  spring  of  1810,  they  made  a 
formal  statement  of  their  wishes  and  the  motives  which  prompted 
them,  which  statement  they  presented  to  my  father,  and  which,  he 
says,  "inexpressibly  touched  my  heart."  The  June  following,  the 
General  Association  of  Massachusetts  was  to  meet  in  Bradford, 
and  my  father  suggested  that  a  written  application  be  made  to 
them  for  advice  and  direction.  This  resulted  in  the  institution 
of  the  American  Board  of  Commissioners  for  Foreign  Missions. 
When,  on  the  6th  of  February,  1812,  these  young  men  took  leave 
of  kindred  and  country  to  carry  tidings  of  a  Saviour  to  the  farthest 


50 


BEMINISCENCE8  AND  BECOBDS. 


ends  of  the  earth,  he  preached  the  sermon,  giving  them  their  part- 
ing instructions. 

He  wrote  the  memoirs  of  Harriet  Newell,  of  blessed  memory, 
and  gave  the  avails  of  the  publication  to  the  society.  He  made 
sacrifices  of  time  and  money  to  help  forward  the  glorious  cause. 
He  followed  the  "dear  missionaries"  to  then- separate  fields  or 
labor  with  letters  of  affectionate  counsel  and  advice.  He  was  an 
influential  member  of  the  Prudential  Committee  till  1834,  when 
the  pressure  of  other  duties  caused  him  to  resign,  though  never 
till  the  end  of  his  life  did  he  lose  his  interest  in  its  objects. 

In  regard  to  the  memou-  of  Harriet  Newell,  one  of  the  earlier 
missionaries  to  India  writes:  "The  'Life  of  Mrs.  Newell,'  by  a 
widely  extended  influence,  has  done  more  good  than  she  would 
probably  have  effected  in  a  long  life  of  usefulness." 

In  1814,  the  American  Tract  Society  was  formed.  Dr.  Woods 
was  immediately  elected  a  member  of  the  Executive  Committee, 
upon  which  he  served  for  four  years,  when  he  resigned,  but  after- 
wards consented  to  serve  one  year.  When,  at  a  later  date,  the 
Doctrinal  Tract  Society  was  formed,  he  was  elected  its  president, 
and  continued  in  that  oflSce  till  his  death. 

In  1846,  Dr.  Woods  retired  from  his  professorship,  having 
labored  arduously  in  connection  with  its  duties  for  thirty-eight 
years,  and  from  this  time  was  engaged  in  prepariug  for  the  press 
his  theological  lectures  and  a  portion  of  his  miscellaneous  writings. 


CONNECTION  WITH  BENEVOLENT  SOCIETIES.  51 

They  were  published  in  1849-50.  It  would  fill  many  pages  of  a 
sketch  like  this  to  quote  from  the  letters  of  regret  caused  by  his 
resignation,  and  by  the  warm,  enthusiastic  welcome  given  to  his 
published  volumes. 

In  an  account  of  liim,  published  soon  after  his  decease,  one  of 
his  former  pupils  says:  "Dr.  Woods  has  been  called  to  preach 
more  sermons  on  public  occasions  and  has  had  more  sermons 
printed  than  any  other  man  in  his  day." 


52 


MEMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A  MAN  OF  PRAYER. 

Dr.  "Woods  was  eminentl}'  a  man  of  prayer.  It  is  safe  to  say 
that  no  duty  was  undertaken  without  the  blessing  of  God  being 
invoked.  In  joy  or  in  sorrow,  in  prospejnty  or  in  adversity,  the 
Father's  hand  was  recognized,  and  his  guidance  sought.  "  Many 
a  time,"  says  one  of  his  daughters,  "  I  have  listened,  while  waiting 
at  his  study  door,  and  heard  a  low  voice  in  earnest  supplication, 
his  tone  rising  with  the  intensity  of  his  emotions.  When  admitted, 
I  have  been  struck  with  awe  at  the  calm  serenity,  the  holy  ele- 
vation of  his  features.  This  was  a  lesson  not  soon  forgotten." 
His  trust  in  the  efficacy  of  prayer  is  well  illustiated  by  an  incident 
which  occurred  in  connection  with  the  ordination  of  Dr.  Hawes,  in 
Hartford,  1818.  Dr.  Woods  was  invited  to  preach  the  sermon. 
It  was  in  the  spring  of  the  year,  and  he  was  delayed  by  the  bad 
travelling.  When,  at  length,  he  reached  the  Connecticut  River, 
the  bridge  had  been  carried  away  by  the  freshet,  and  the  floating 
ice  made  crossing  extremely  dangerous.  At  the  edge  of  the  river 
he  fouud  a  boatman,  who  reluctantly  consented,  in  such  an  emer- 
gency, to  attempt  to  get  him  across.  Then  he  went  to  an  old 
house,  which  stood  near,  and  asked  the  privilege  of  a  retii-ed  room 


A  MAN  OF  PBAYEB. 


53 


for  a  short  time.  There  he  knelt  and  sought  direction  from  God 
concerning  his  duty.  Then  committing  himself  to  the  Divine  care, 
he  returned  to  the  river,  crossed  in  safety,  and  reached  the  church 
just  in  season  for  the  service  he  had  engaged  to  perform. 

From  one  of  my  father's  pupils,  a  clergyman,  occupying  a  high 
position  in  the  church  and  in  a  theological  seminary,  I  have  re- 
ceived the  following  incident,  which  illustrates  the  statement  that 
Dr.  Woods  was  eminently  a  man  of  prayer.    He  says :  — 

"  The  little  incident,  known  only  to  myself,  I  hesitate  to  divulge 
to  any  one,  but  it  will  not  be  without  interest  to  you,  as  showing 
your  father's  devotional  habits. 

"Atone  of  the  anniversary  gatherings,  the  professors'  houses 
were  unusually  crowded.  At  that  time,  I  occupied  an  upper  room 
in  your  father's  house,  but  vacated  my  chamber  on  the  arrival  of 
additional  and  unexpected  guests.  As  night  approached,  I  found 
my  way  to  the  barn,  sleeping  quite  comfortably  on  the  hay.  Very 
early  the  next  morning,  —  before  daj'light,  I  think,  —  some  one 
came  quietly  through  a  side  door,  and,  after  a  short  pause,  the 
voice  of  prayer  was  heard.  It  seemed  that  a  very  busy  day  could 
not  be  begun  without  a  season  of  communion  with  God,  though  at 
an  unusual  time  and  place.  To  me  it  explained  the  secret  of  my 
revered  teacher's  sanctified  self-control." 


54 


REMINISCENCES  AND  EECORDS. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

HUMILITY  AND  CHARITY. 

In  looking  over  files  of  letters,  one  cannot  help  being  impressed 
with  the  deep  humility  of  the  subject  of  our  sketch.  Indeed, 
there  is  no  trait  more  conspicuous  than  his  sense  of  his  own  un- 
worthiness  in  the  sight  of  God.  "  I  feel  myself,"  he  writes,  "  a 
poor,  perishing  sinner.  If  I  am  ever  received  into  heaven,  I  shall 
be  astonished  at  the  grace  which  can  save  such  an  one  as  I  am. 
When  I  compare  my  low  aims,  my  sordid  ambitions,  with  the 
character  of  an  infinitely  holy  God,  I  am  bowed  to  the  dust." 

This  sense  of  his  own  imperfections  led  to  great  charity  to- 
ward the  failings  of  others.  As  a  public  man,  and  living  in  the 
times  of  controversy,  he  certainly  was  not  included  in  the  curse, 
"  Woe  unto  you,  when  all  men  shall  speak  well  of  you."  He  was 
often  attacked  in  the  public  journals,  his  motives  maligned,  his 
smallest  acts  misrepresented.  When  these  abusive  remarks  were 
brought  to  his  notice,  he  only  smiled,  or  brought  forward  some 
excuse  for  the  accused.  I  have  before  me  several  letters  from 
students,  who  in  real  penitence  have  acknowledged  their  fault. 
From  one  I  quote  :  "  I  do  not  know  whether  you  ever  heard  of  my 


HUMILITY  AND  CHABITT. 


55 


unkind  or  unjust  remarks.  If  you  have,  your  kindness  to  me  has 
been  exactly  what  I  ought  to  expect  from  one  of  yom  well-known 
character  for  forgiveness.  It  is  a  saying  among  us,  'If  you  want 
Dr.  Woods  to  be  your  best  friend,  give  him  something  to  forgive.'" 
Like  Sigismund,  an  illustrious  monarch,  Dr.  Woods's  sentiment 
was,  "  Do  I  not  effectually  destroy  my  enemies  when  I  make  them 
my  friends?"  Had  I  space,  I  could,  from  papers  before  me,  give 
many  instances  where  he,  in  this  Christian  manner,  won  many 
warm  friends. 

Dr.  Woods  was  methodical  in  his  habits,  especially  in  his  studies. 
It  was  his  custom  to  retire  to  his  study  directly  after  breakfast, 
and  after  a  short  season  of  devotion,  he  took  his  seat  in  his  arm- 
chair, his  goose-quill  making  rapid  progress  on  the  sheets  before 
him.  Occasionally,  in  winter,  when  the  wind  whirled  too  boister- 
ously around  his  corner,  he  would  bring  his  arm-chair  to  the  sitting- 
i"oom.  Here  sat  his  wife  and  five  daughters  ;  the  mother  busily  at 
work,  while  at  the  same  time  she  tried  to  keep  within  bounds  the 
buoyant  spirits  of  her  young  girls.  "  On  a  similar  occasion,"  says 
his  daughter,  "  father  sat  with  his  back  partly  turned  to  us,  seem- 
ing so  engrossed  in  his  writing  that  he  did  not  notice  our  presence, 
when,  from  the  mere  sight  of  each  others'  faces,  there  was  a  slight 
explosion  of  laughter.  He  turned  around,  met  ten  eyes  dancing 
with  merriment,  and,  laying  down  his  pen,  said,  in  a  good-humored 


56 


BEMimSCEKCES  AND  BECORDS. 


tone,  '  Well,  girls,  have  a  good  hearty  laugh  and  let  off  the  steam. 
Come,  now  ! '  He  waited  a  moment,  but  we  only  looked  foolish, 
when,  with  a  very  funny  expression  on  his  face,  he  resumed  his 
writing." 


BENEVOLENCE. 


57 


CHAPTER  IX. 

BENEVOLENCE. 

For  a  man  of  his  means,  Dr.  Woods  gave  largely  to  benevolent 
objects.  It  was  a  part  of  his  religion,  like  that  of  the  Jewish 
tithes.  The  secret  of  his  ability  to  do  this  was  in  the  economical 
habits  in  which  he  was  trained,  and  which,  from  principle,  he 
carried  through  life.  Our  diet  was  simple  but  abundant,  and 
though  seldom  without  guests,  we  welcomed  them  to  such  as  we 
had.  We  dressed  plainly  ;  our  house  was  furnished  with  comfort, 
but  without  luxury.  Yet  when  there  were  real  advantages  in  ques- 
tion, there  was  no  stint.  A  letter  before  me  recalls  one  method 
he  used  to  encourage  his  children  to  make  sacrifices  for  benevolent 
objects.  "  It  was  during  a  year  of  great  financial  pressure,"  says 
his  daughter,  "  and  the  American  Board  were  suffering  from  a 
lack  of  funds,  that  father  presented  the  case  to  us.  It  was 
directly  after  family  prayers,  when  we  younger  ones  were  present, 
he  explained  this  to  us,  adding  that  it  was  his  earnest  desire  to 
give  a  thousand  dollars  toward  making  up  the  deficiency,  —  a 
large  sum  for  a  man  with  a  salary  of  fifteen  hundred  dollars,  and 
ten  children  to  educate.  Father  added,  that  he  could  not  do  this 
without  the  co-operation  of  his  wife  and  children.    Mother  quickly 


58 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


responded,  and  pledged  her  aid.  Father  then  explained  to  us 
little  ones  that  it  would  teach  us  self-denial  and  sacrifice,  and  he 
wanted  us  to  take  time  to  consider  the  subject.  We  were  all  eager 
to  promise,  but  not  for  a  day  or  two  would  he  allow  us  to  give  him 
a  final  pledge." 


AS  A  PBEACHEB. 


59 


CHAPTER  X. 

AS  A  PREACHER. 

The  author  of  my  father's  funeral  sermon  has  so  aptly  described 
him  in  the  pulpit,  that  I  shall  quote  his  words  :  — 

"Dr.  Woods  did  not,  as  some  stiU  do,  divorce  religion  from 
reason,  faith  from  philosophy  ;  but  he  made  theology  the  queen  of 
the  sciences,  and  employed  philosophy  and  all  other  sciences  to 
give  point  and  force  to  the  purely  Gospel  message.  If  his  preach- 
ing, in  the  early  part  of  his  ministry,  was  not  so  rich  and  compact 
in  thought  as  later,  it  was  yet  peculiarly  fresh,  suggestive,  and 
sometimes  startling.  It  did  not  let  the  heai'ers  sleep  in  their  pews, 
and  often  not  on  their  pillows,  till  compunction  had  been  followed 
by  confession  and  amendment. 

"His  themes  awakened  new  ti-aius  of  thought,  and  his  manner 
of  treating  them,  logical,  lucid,  and  illustrative,  impressed  them 
strongly  upon  his  auditors.  They  reflected  on  his  sermons  ;  they 
talked  about  them ;  they  debated  among  themselves  the  '  hard 
sayings'  which  they  contained;  they  searched  the  Scriptures  to 
see  whether  these  things  were  so  ;  and  after  this,  the  people  and 
the  preacher  generally  came  into  pretty  close  agreement. 

"In  his  earnest  pressing  of  man's  great  sin  and  God's  greater 


60 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  BEC0BD8. 


salvation,  on  the  dead  ear  of  the  world  and  the  dull  life  of  the 
church,  youthful  fire  often  kindled  his  mild  blue  eye  into  a  mag- 
netic eloquence,  and  wrought  his  whole  manly  figure  into  a  glow 
of  simple  but  graceful  action.  This  gave  to  his  sermons,  at 
times,  the  might  of  a  living  Gospel."  * 

The  style  and  scope  of  my  father's  sermons  varied  at  different 
periods  of  his  life.  While  a  pastor,  he  was  emiuently  practical. 
After  his  connection  with  the  theological  seminary,  he  was  called 
to  preach  at  ordinations,  installations,  and  at  the  funerals  of  dis- 
tinguished men.  Ou  such  occasions  he  was  wont  to  take  high 
themes,  and  thus,  in  later  years,  he  became  more  known  as  a 
doctrinal  preacher.  His  sermon  ou  "The  Province  of  Reason  in 
Matters  of  Religion,"  delivered  in  the  course  of  the  Murray  Street 
lectures.  New  York,  won  for  him  great  fame. 

I  had  once  the  pleasure  of  an  interview  with  a  distinguished 
jurist,  who  gave  me  an  account  of  an  ordiuation  sermon  preached 
by  my  father,  in  1811  :  — 

"Mr.  Richard  Hall,  one  of  the  first  graduates  from  the  new 
seminary,  had  accepted  a  call  from  the  church  and  society  in  New 
Ipswich,  and  had  requesti  d  his  theological  professor  to  preach  the 
ordination  sermon,  I  was  invited  to  be  present,  and  went  to  the 
place  in  due  season.    There  was  great  excitement  at  the  thought 


*  Rev.  E.  A,  Laurence,  D.  D. 


AS  A  PEE  AC  HER. 


61 


of  hearing  the  new  professor,  whose  fame  had  reached  that  quiet 
spot.  Expectation  was  on  tiptoe ;  little  else  was  talked  of. 
When  he  entered  the  meeting-house  and  walked  up  to  the  pulpit, 
every  eye  was  upon  him.  I  remember  how  he  looked  as  well  as 
though  it  were  yesterday,  —  how  stately  ;  taU  and  erect  as  a  pine 
in  its  native  forest ;  dignified,  but  unassuming.  He  stood  a 
moment,  looking  around  on  the  audience  as  they  came  crowding 
in,  his  handsome  face  beaming  with  animation.  His  dress,  too, 
was  remai'ked  upon,  so  neat,  so  suitable,  so  exactly  in  harmony 
with  the  man.    I  can  see  him  as  though  he  now  stood  before  me." 

"  Do  you  recollect  the  subject  of  his  sermon?  "  I  inquired. 

"No,  I've  been  trying  to  think;  it's  a  good  many  years  ago. 
But  I  do  remember  what  attention  he  received.  He  made  a  great 
impression ;  every  eye  was  filled.  The  raised  expectations  were 
fully  realized." 

During  the  latter  part  of  my  father's  life  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
dividing  his  sermons  into  two  parts,  preaching  one  in  the  morning 
and  the  other  in  the  afternoon.  His  delivery  in  his  later  years 
was  more  moderate  than  when  he  was  a  pastor.  This  arose  partly 
from  the  fact  of  his  lecturing  for  so  many  years  to  those  who 
were  taking  notes,  and  from  an  amiable  desire  to  aid  them  in 
every  way  in  his  power. 


62 


REMimSCEKCES  AND  RECORDS. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

REVERENCE  FOR  THE  SABBATH. 

To  my  father  the  Sabbath  was  truly  a  holy  day,  —  a  day  of 
rest  from  worldly  cares,  studies,  and  toil.  The  first  thought  that 
impresses  my  mind,  when  I  look  back  upon  my  childhood,  is  the 
Sabbath  stillness.  I  remember  that  we  walked  softly  about  the 
house  ;  that,  with  the  exception  of  the  morning  hymn,  — 

"  Welcome,  sweet  day  of  rest," 

we  did  not  sing  even  sacred  songs  until  after  sundown.  How 
often  on  this  day  did  my  father  read  the  precious  psalm  of  David, 
commencing,  — 

"How  amiable  are  thy  tabernacles,  O  Lord  of  Hosts!  My 
soul  longeth,  yea,  even  fainteth  for  the  courts  of  the  Lord." 

And  truly  lie  did  love  the  courts  of  the  Lord.  Never,  in  my 
entire  recollection  of  him,  did  he  absent  himself,  unless  by  some 
providential  detention  ;  and  by  his  whole  manner  he  proved  to 
those  about  him  that  attending  public  worship  was  not  a  mere 
form.  By  his  countenance,  his  voice,  he  showed  that,  with  David, 
the  language  of  his  heart  was,  — 


BEVEBENGE  FOB  THE  SABBATH. 


63 


"Blessed  are  they  that  dwell  in  thy  house;  they  will  be  still 
praising  thee." 

"While  in  the  house  of  God,  my  father's  appearance  was  devout. 
There  were  times  when  the  heat  of  the  chapel,  the  length  of  the 
services,  exhaustion,  and  fatigue  might  have  made  him  drowsy  ;  it 
is  true  that  many  of  the  sermons  by  the  young  students  had  been 
revised  and  re-revised  by  his  pen,  and  could  not,  therefore,  have 
had  to  him  the  freshness  of  new  discourses,  but  he  resisted  the 
inclination  to  sleep  with  all  his  might.  He  used  to  keep  a  pin 
stuck  on  the  sleeve  of  his  coat,  and  when  Nature  asserted  herself 
too  strongly,  I  have  many  a  time  seen  him  stick  the  pin  into  his 
finger  till  he  drew  blood. 

In  the  singing  he  always  joined  with  his  heart  and  voice.  We 
used  to  have  rare  music  in  those  early  days,  when  Schaulfler  made 
his  flute  yield  such  heavenly  sounds  ;  or  when  Dana  and  Gregg  and 
Webster  and  C'ushman  were  members  of  the  Lockhart  Society  ;  but 
I  recollect  listening,  above  them  all,  for  the  sweet  voice  of  my 
father,  and  the  almost  rhapsodous,  if  I  may  use  such  a  word, 
chanting  of  Professor  Stuart  in  the  slip  next  to  ours. 

In  our  family  devotions  on  Sunday  afternoon,  we  usually  read 
around  in  turn,  each  two  verses,  sometimes  a  whole  book,  like 
Ruth,  or  a  connected  historj-,  like  that  of  Joseph  or  of  Daniel  On 
these  occasions,  father's  prayers  were  unusually  fervent  and  ten- 
der.   It  used  to  seem  to  me  that  because  it  was  God's  own  day,  my 


64 


REMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


father  drew  nearer  to  the  throne,  —  that  he  enjoyed  more  intimate 
communion  with  God  than  on  other  days.  Never  were  his  confes- 
sions of  sin  more  humble  and  abundant  than  now,  when  he  seemed 
to  feel  their  effects  on  his  own  heart,  and  on  the  human  race  ;  and 
when  the  plan  of  redemption  by  Christ  appeared  so  infinitely  pre- 
cious and  wonderful.  I  do  not  remember  ever  hearing  him  pray  at 
the  family  altar  without  asking  the  blessing  of  God  on  his  children  ; 
but  on  the  Sabbath  evening,  his  petitions  for  the  forgiveness  of  our 
sins,  his  pleas  that  the  Holy  Spirit  might  lead  us  to  accept  the 
offers  of  mercy  made  us  by  Christ,  were  so  earnest,  so  deep  and 
tender,  that  they  often  made  me  quake  with  fear.  "  If  I  do  not 
repent  and  begin  to  love  Christ,"  I  used  to  say  to  myself,  when,  in 
an  agony  of  remorse,  I  had  retired  to  weep  alone,  "if  I  do  not 
become  a  Christian,  these  prayers,  instead  of  proving  life  unto 
life,  will  be  death  unto  death  to  my  immortal  soul." 

Soon  after  breakfast  (we  first  had  family  prayers)  my  father's 
habit  was  to  go  into  his  stud}-  and  remain  there  until  the  ring- 
ing of  the  second  bell  for  service  in  the  chapel.  When  he  joined 
us,  I  have  often  noticed  and  wondered  at  a  peculiar  elevation  of 
countenance  which  caused  a  feeling  of  awe  to  steal  over  me.  I 
know  now  that  lie  had  been  enjoying  close  communion  with  his 
Father  in  heaven  ;  that  he  had  been  behind  the  veil  and,  with  the 
eye  of  faith,  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  sacrificed  Savi<-ur,  now 
risen,  glorious,  sitting  upon  his  throne  on  high. 


BEVEBENCE  FOB  THE  SABBATH. 


65 


When  I  was  about  six  years  old,  I  recollect  that  father  and  I 
were  both  too  sick  to  go  to  church.  We  stayed  alone,  and  father, 
calling  me  to  him,  said,  — 

"Bring  your  high  chair  close  to  me,  and  we  will  have  a  little 
meeting  at  home."  He  read  a  cliapter  in  the  Bible,  and  then  we 
sang  a  hymn  to  the  tune  of  "  Mear."  When  we  had  finished  it, 
I,  after  the  first  line,  having  carried  the  treble  alone,  he  turned  to 
me  with  a  smile,  saying,  "  You  sing  almost  as  well  as  your  mother, 
my  dear."  This  was  the  highest  praise  he  could  have  given  me, 
and  I  have  never  forgotten  it.  After  a  prayer,  he  kissed  me  and 
told  me  I  might  go  back  to  my  book. 

I  have  mentioned  the  grove  of  walnut-trees  in  the  rear  of  our 
orchard.  Here,  in  pleasant  weather,  my  father  used  often  on  the 
Sabbath  afto'noou  to  pace  back  and  forth,  his  hands  clasped 
behind  his  back,  while  he  meditated  on  high  and  holy  themes. 
Occasionally,  he  used  to  invite  one  of  us  little  ones  to  accompany 
him.  When  I  was  to  go,  I  know  not  whether  there  was  more  of 
pleasure  or  pain  in  the  interview.  It  was  indeed  delightful  to 
follow  him  in  the  narrow  path  trodden  down  in  the  clover  field, 
and  see  the  grasshoppers  jumping  and  skipping  from  leaf  to  leaf, 
and  hear  the  robins  warbling  then'  evening  song  of  praise  to  G(k1. 
It  was  sweet,  when  we  reached  the  wider  path  in  the  shelter  of  the 
grove,  to  take  his  hand  and  see  his  face  lighted  up  with  smiles, 
and  hear  his  voice  so  loving  and  tender  ;  but  ah  !  there  were  emo- 


66 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


tions  also  far  from  joyful.  When  he  told  me  of  the  love  of  my 
Saviour,  who  had  taken  the  form  of  man  on  purpose  to  sympathize 
with  my  griefs,  who  had  suffered  cold  and  hunger  and  every  priva- 
tion out  of  his  tender  love  and  pity  for  me,  how  he  had  hung  on 
the  cross,  pierced  with  cruel  nails,  with  the  weight  of  my  sins  upon 
him,  I  was  seized  with  such  an  agony  of  grief  at  my  hard  and 
impenitent  heart  that  would  not  let  me  love  him  as  I  ought,  that 
I  could  not  be  comforted.  When  he,  with  a  father's  love,  urged 
me,  like  Bunyan,  to  throw  my  burden  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross, 
when  he  repeated  the  gracious  words,  "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that 
labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest,"  I  could  only 
sob  until  my  head  and  heart  were  alike  ready  to  burst  with  grief. 
Still,  I  humbly  hope  that  in  the  last  great  day,  when  the  secrets  of 
all  hearts  shall  be  revealed,  it  will  be  seen  that,  in  my  case,  my 
father's  prayers  and  his  faitlifiil  Sabbath  admonitions  were  not 
wholly  in  vain. 


A  BAY  OF  SOBBOW, 


67 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A  DAY  OF  SORROW. 

Far,  far  back  in  the  past  comes  the  memory  of  a  day  when  the 
joy  of  our  sweet  home  seemed  suddenly  extinguished,  when  a  deep 
gloom  shrouded  the  house  and  all  its  inmates.  My  father,  whose 
vigorous  frame  had  always  seemed  to  defy  the  encroachments  of 
disease,  was  seized  with  a  dangerous,  a  mysterious  malady.  The 
doctors  came,  and  went  quietly  up  into  the  chamber.  Not  a  sound 
could  be  heard  outside  the  closed  doors.  We  longed,  yet  feared, 
to  know  what  dreadful  events  were  occurring  there.  TVe  yearned 
for  one  word  of  comfort  from  mother,  but  a  glimpse  into  her 
blanched  face  made  our  hearts  beat  with  increased  alarm.  In 
terror,  in  sorrow,  in  joy,  we  had  always  rushed  to  our  father's 
arms.  Om-  hearts  almost  stopped  beating  at  the  thought:  our 
father  may  leave  us  ;  what  can  we  do  then  ? 

The  few  hours  that  passed,  seemed  an  age  of  sorrow.  At 
length  mother  came  softly  into  the  room,  where  we  had  all 
assembled  to  weep  together,  and  motioning  to  my  brother,  said 
with  a  smile,  yet  with  quivering  lip,  "  Your  father  is  somewhat 
relieved  of  his  terrible  suffering.    He  wants  you  all  to  kneel,  and 


68 


REMINISCENCES  AND  BECOEDS. 


thaiik  God  for  his  goodness."  She  was  gone  before  we  had  time 
to  ask  more. 

From  that  day  for  several  years,  n\\  fatlier  suffered  from  similar 
attacks,  though  1  do  not  remember  any  that  were  as  severe  as 
this. 

The  doctor  informed  us  that  it  was  heart  disease,  and  directed 
that  his  patient  should  abandon  the  use  of  coffee,  which  he  did  for 
manj'  years  ;  also,  that  he  should  avoid  excitement  of  every  kiud, 
such  as  running  or  even  walking  fast. 


PUNCTUALITY. 


69 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

PUNCTUALITY. 

One  lesson  which  my  father  taught  his  children  was  to  be  i)unc- 
tual  in  the  performance  of  every  duty.  This  he  enforced  by  Ids 
own  example.  In  these  days  of  making  and  breaking  appoint- 
ments, I  am  frequently  reminded  of  my  father's  promptness  in 
meeting  his  engagements.  Whether  it  was  the  summons  to  dinner, 
or  the  chapel  bell  calling  him  to  his  lecture-room,  or  to  service  on 
the  Sabbath,  he  was  invariably  in  his  seat  on  time 

It  was  the  custom  in  our  house  to  have  family  prayers  before 
breakfast.  There  was  a  first  bell  designed  to  awaken  us,  and  we 
knew  our  father  wished  us  all  promptly  to  answer  the  second  bell, 
and  be  in  our  seats  when  he  commenced  reading.  He  always  on 
these  occasions  sat  in  a  particular  chair  in  one  part  of  the  room, 
and  from  this  seat  his  eye  could  note  the  tardiness  of  any  of  us. 

Occasionally,  slumber  rested  too  heavily  on  my  eyelids,  and  the 
first  bell  was  disregarded.  When  this  was  the  case,  oh  how  I 
dreaded  to  meet  my  father's  sorrowful  eye,  fixed  upon  me  as  he 
paused  for  one  moment  in  his  reading !  It  always  seemed  to  me 
to  say,  "  Harriette,  don't  you  love  mc?  Don't  you  know  I  wish 
you  to  be  punctual  ? " 


70 


REMINISCENCES  AND  BEGOBDS. 


I  used  to  step  very  softly  on  such  occasions,  and  after  opening 
tlie  door  with  the  utmost  care,  slip  into  the  first  seat  I  could  find. 

During  the  thirty-eight  years  of  my  father's  connection  with  the 
seminary,  I  have  often  been  told  that  in  two  or  three  instances 
only  he  was  behind  time  in  meeting  his  class,  and  then  it  was  in 
consequence  of  a  providential  detention.  "When  the  bell  had 
stopped  tolling,  the  students  were  sure  to  see  him  sitting  in  his 
arm-chair,  ready  to  commence  the  duties  of  the  hour.  He  was 
equally  prompt  in  fulfilling  all  his  appointments.  If  he  had  a 
meeting  of  the  Prudential  Committee  of  the  American  Board,  or 
an  engagement  v.  itli  any  of  the  various  benevolent  societies  with 
which  he  was  connecled,  nothing  short  of  a  providential  detention 
prevented  his  being  on  liniid,  and  at  exactly  the  right  moment. 

A  clergyman,  who  is  a  member  of  tlie  American  Doctrinal  Tract 
and  Book  Society,  has  given  me  the  following  incident:  — 

"It  was  during  the  earl}-  history  of  this  society  that  an  annual 
meeting  was  called  at  No.  !)  Cornhill,  up-stairs.  'Dr.  Ide,  of 
Medway,  the  vice-i  resident,  SewoU  Harding,  secretary.  Dr. 
McClure,  and  other  members  liad  assonibled.  At  this  time  a  sharp 
controversy  was  going  on  in  New  iMighmd  in  regard  to  the  origin 
of  moral  evil,  and  the  Doctrinal  Tract  Society,  and,  of  course,  their 
president,  were  involved  in  the  discussion. 

"  After  some  conversation  among  those  present  on  the  subject  in 
question,  a  gentleman  remarked,  — 


PUNCTUALITY. 


71 


"  '  It  may  be  that  on  account  of  the  excitement  having  reached 
its  height,  Dr.  Woods  will  absent  himself.' 

"  'On  that  very  account  he  will  not  fail  us,'  eagerly  remarked 
Dr.  McClure. 

"Dr.  Ide  took  out  his  watch,  saying,  '  It  wants  two  minutes  to 
the  hour.  We  may  depend  that  Dr.  Woods  will  be  here.'  While 
he  was  speaking,  the  tall  form  of  the  president  was  seen  advan- 
cing to  his  chair.  His  entrance,  much  to  his  surprise,  was  greeted 
with  a  shout  of  laughter." 

I  have  already  said  that  it  was  my  father's  habit,  during  the 
spring  and  fall  vacations,  to  accompany  his  family  on  a  journey. 
As  long  as  his  aged  mother  lived,  he  went  at  least  once  a  year  to 
Princeton,  at  the  foot  of  the  Wachusett  Mountains,  to  visit  her, 
taking  with  him  my  mother  and  some  of  the  children.  On  such 
occasions  he  made  definite  plans  weeks  beforehand,  and  wrote 
his  mother,  his  sisters,  and  other  relatives  at  exactly  what  hour  he 
should  expect  to  be  at  their  houses.  They  well  knew  that  the 
weather  had  nothing  to  do  with  his  plans.  The  only  alternatives 
were  the  words  in  his  letter,  "  God  willing  "  If  he  had  written, 
"Atone  o'clock  I  shall  be  with  you  to  take  dinner,"  they  were 
sure  that,  rain  or  sunshine,  cold  or  heat,  would  not  prevent  him. 

"I  used  to  reach  Princeton,"  he  said,  "  generally  about  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  at  that  hour,  on  winding  my  way 


72 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


slowly  up  the  long  hQl,  T  have  seen  my  aged  mother  standing  at 
the  door,  her  eyes  shaded  from  the  sun  by  her  hand,  waiting  to 
welcome  me.  If  the  weather  was  unfavorable,  and  any  member 
of  the  family  ventured  to  hint  that  I  might  be  delayed,  her  answer 
was  always  the  same,  spoken  in  her  calm,  decided  tone,  '  Leon- 
ard wrote  me  that  he  should  be  here.'  " 


AS  A  HUSBAND. 


73 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

AS  A  HUSBAND. 

No  reminiscences  of  Dr.  Woods,  however  brief,  would  be  com- 
plete without  touching  on  his  character  in  his  home  relations  ;  but 
here  my  pen  falters  as  I  recall  his  love,  his  patience,  his  tenderness, 
his  forgiveness.  From  files  of  letters  lying  before  me  I  read  words 
so  full  of  tender  sympathy,  so  sweet  and  loving,  so  discreet  in 
counsel,  so  wise  in  administering  reproof,  that  my  eyes  overflow. 
One  thing  was  particularly  noticeable  in  my  father  and  mother : 
this  was  their  perfect  unanimity.  I  do  not  recollect  a  single  in- 
stance in  which  their  views  did  not  coincide  in  respect  to  the  wel- 
fare and  comfort  of  their  family.  As  children,  we  well  knew  that 
if  one  of  them  approved  or  disapproved  of  any  particular  course, 
the  other  was  sure  to  do  so. 

While  attending  the  anniversaries  in  New  York  in  1836,  my  be- 
loved mother  was  seized  with  paralysis  ;  my  father,  whom  pressing 
engagements  had  prevented,  for  the  first  time  in  many  years,  from 
being  present,  was  instantly  summoned.  She  was  in  great  danger 
when  he  reached  New  York.  Her  state  and  his  feelings  he  de- 
scribes in  a  letter  to  my  sister  Sophia,  kindly  forwarded  me  for 


74 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


insertion  :  "I  hope  you  have  received  the  two  notes  which  I  have 
sent  you.  Your  mother  is  sensibly  better  than  she  was  when  I 
wrote  last.  She  is  truly  happy,  cheerful,  and  contented.  She  has 
rest  of  soul.  '  Oh,  the  beauty  and  blessedness  of  the  Christian 
spirit !  I  find  that  wherever  I  go,  and  whatever  I  behold,  the 
thought  of  your  dear  mother  is  connected  with  it.  When  I  walk  in 
the  steamboat,  I  think  of  times  past  when  I  have  walked  with  her  ; 
whether  in  the  house  of  God  or  in  a  private  dwelling,  I  think  con- 
tinually of  my  dear  wife,  now  so  feeble  and  afflicted." 

My  father's  affection  for  my  dear  mother  was  beautifully  exem- 
plified dm-ing  the  long  sickness  which  followed  this  attack.  For 
the  period  of  ten  years,  during  which  she  suffered  from  repeated 
shocks  of  paralysis,  his  attention  to  her  never  tired.  By  the  most 
unwearied  tenderness,  by  the  most  affectionate  sympathy,  and  by 
the  most  devoted  love,  did  he  strive  to  soothe  her  pain  and  alle- 
viate the  restlessness  which  always  accompanies  a  complaint  like 
hers. 

Often  have  I  been  excited  almost  to  tears  at  the  sight  of  her 
brightening  face,  as  she  listened  for  his  well-known  footsteps,  or 
welcomed  his  approach.  His  first  visit  on  entering  the  house  was 
always  to  her,  while  his  cheering  smiles  and  words  of  affection  be- 
guiled many  an  hour  of  suffering. 

On  his  return  from  his  daily  walk  he  frequently  brought  her  a 
bunch  of  bright  leaves,  or  a  f  i  agant  flower,  which  he  presented  her 


^^S-  A  HUSBAND. 


75 


with  the  grace  and  tenderness  of  a  young  and  ardent  lover,  and 
which  she  could  not  be  induced  to  part  with  until  it  had  withered 
and  decay e<l. 

For  several  years  during  her  sickness  my  mother  was  able  to  at- 
tend church,  and  as  it  was  difficult  for  her  to  get  into  a  carriage, 
she  preferred  walking.  My  father  generally  started  with  her  fif- 
teen or  twenty  minutes  before  service,  and  with  tlie  utmost  care 
guided  her  steps  to  the  very  door  of  the  pew,  where  he  had  pre- 
pared a  comfortable  seat  for  her  by  his  side. 

Afterwards,  when  needing  the  exercise,  but  unable  to  walk,  my 
father  made  use  of  the  low  carriage  he  had  once  contrived  for  me. 
To  this  he  had  an  arm-chair  attached,  and  himself  drew  her  about 
the  home  grounds,  sometimes  with  help,  to  the  grove  of  walnut  and 
oak  trees,  beyond  our  fruit  orchard. 

In  reference  to  my  father's  unwearied  care  at  this  time,  Hon. 
B.  W.  Harris,  one  of  the  Massachusetts  representatives  to  Con- 
gress, says :  — 

"It  was  certainly  among  the  holiest  lessons  of  my  youth  to  see 
your  father's  tender  solicitude  of  his  sick  wife.  It  was  when  I 
was  a  member  of  Phillips  Academy,  that  I  used  to  stand  and  look 
over  the  fence  to  see  that  venerable  man,  occupying  such  a  prom- 
inent position  at  the  head  of  the  theological  seminary,  dragging 
with  his  own  hands,  about  his  grounds,  the  carriage  in  which  he 
had  seated  his  wife." 


76 


BEMINISGENCES  AND  BECORDS. 


In  a  letter  from  my  father  to  me,  dated  Jan.  25,  1844,  he  refers 
to  these  rides  :  — 

..."  Your  mother  is  quite  comfortable,  and-,  cold  as  it  is,  I 
have  just  been  taking  her  down  to  the  grove,  and  given  her  what 
we  call  a  sleigh-ride.  T  have  made  a  good  seat  at  the  back  part  of 
my  large  sled,  and  put  up  a  side  ;  then  I  put  down  a  cushion,  and 
spread,  over  all,  my  old  thick  wrapper;  and  she  sits,  happy  as  a 
queen,  and  happier,  too,  and  awa}-  she  goes,  honored,  as  you  know 
the  great  ones  of  the  earth  sometimes  are,  who  are  drawn  by  human 
beings  instead  of  beasts.  She  has  had  several  rides  since  the 
snow  was  hard  enough  to  bear  up  ;  but  I  get  somewhat  out  of 
breath,  and  should  be  glad  of  a  stronger  team  to  go  up  hill." 

My  mother  was  born  on  the  29th  of  February,  and,  therefore,  her 
real  birthday  only  came  once  in  four  years ;  on  other  occasions, 
we  celebrated  it  on  the  28th  of  the  month.  1  find  a  letter  from 
my  father,  dated  Feb.  28,  1845  :  — 

My  dkar  Wifk,  —  I  would  render  thanks  to  God  that  you 
are  brought  in  so  much  comfort  to  another  of  your  birtlidaj's. 
Many  have  been  your  trials  during  the  past  year  ;  but  your  mercies 
are  far  more  numerous,  and  far  greater  than  your  sufferings.  This 
you  delight  to  remember. 

And  now,  dear  wife,  we  have  lived  together  forty-six  years,  and 
those  have  been  happy  years.    I  began  to  love  you  when  you  were 


^-S-  A  HUSBAND. 


77 


in  the  bloom  of  youth,  and  I  love  you  none  the  less  now  that  you  are 
in  feeble  health  and  advanced  in  life.  Nay,  my  love  is  deeper,  and 
I  believe  purer,  than  it  was  in  former  years.  And  I  doubt  not  it  is 
so  with  your  love  to  me.  My  heart  is  with  you,  and  ever  will  be. 
Your  joys  are  my  joys,  and  your  sorrows  are  my  sorrows.  Let 
our  affections  be  on  heavenly  things ;  and  let  us  labor  and  pray 
that  we  and  all  our  children  and  all  our  grandchildren  may  be 
numbered  with  the  followers  of  Jesus,  and  have  a  place  in  the 
paradise  of  God ! 

Your  ever  affectionate  husband, 

Leonard  Woods. 

In  regard  to  my  dear  father's  tenderness  and  care  of  my  sick 
mother,  I  well  remember  a  remark  of  our  deceased  friend,  Mrs. 
Samuel  Farrar,  of  Andover. 

"  I  have  often  wondered,"  she  said,  "  why  God  allowed  so  good 
a  man  as  Dr.  "Woods  to  be  so  much  afflicted  in  his  family ;  but 
now  I  see  that  our  Heavenly  Father  has  a  gracious  design  in  it 
toward  the  young  men  connected  with  the  institution.  He  thus 
gives  them  an  example  of  the  most  unwearied  conjugal  love." 

I  must  close  this  chapter,  upon  which  I  could  write  a  volume,  by 
a  quotation  from  Dr.  George  W.  Blagden's  address  at  the  fiftieth 
anniversary  of  the  seminary.    He  says  :  — 

"  During  all  my  acquaintance  with  Dr.  Woods,  as  one  who  en- 


78 


REMINISCENCES  AND  BECORDS. 


joyed  the  privilege  of  occupying  a  room  in  bis  own  dwelling-house, 
for  the  three  years  of  my  course  in  the  seminary,  the  loveliness 
and  faithfulness  of  his  domestic  character  were  continually  devel- 
oped, and  excited  my  admiration  and  esteem.  He  was  a  most 
affectionate  and  faithful  husband  and  father.  1  have  seen  him  in 
times  of  domestic  affliction  and  trial,  and  when  I  think  of  him 
as  he  appeared  then,  I  am  reminded  of  what  my  imagination  pic- 
tures to  me  of  Abraham  himself,  walking  forth  with  Isaac,  or 
buying  of  the  sons  of  Heth  a  burial-place  for  his  beloved  Sarah. 
He  had  much  of  the  dignity  aud  the  tenderness  of  the  ancient 
patriarch." 

During  the  latter  part  of  the  year  1845,  the  health  of  my  be- 
loved mother  sensibly  failed.  She  lost  her  appetite,  and,  indeed, 
could  not  swallow  without  great  difficult}'.  We  were  informed, 
early  in  February,  1846,  of  her  feeble  condition  and  paid  her  a 
visit  on  the  14th,  when  she  was  cheerful  as  usual,  but  felt  that 
her  life  was  drawing  to  a  close.  She  sent  love  to  each  of  our 
childi-en  by  name,  with  a  message  that  grandmother  loved  them, 
and  hoped  they  would  be  good  boys. 

On  the  morning  of  the  21st,  we  received  a  few  hastily  written 
lines  from  our  afflicted  father. 

"  Your  mother  has  fallen  sweetly  asleep  in  Jesus." 

In  reference  to  this  severe  affliction,  his  own  words  best  express 
his  grief :  — 


AS  A  HUSBAND 


79 


"Oh,  ray  poor  stricken  heart!  I  cannot  bear  up  under  my 
thoughts.  Away  I  must  go  to  the  blessed  world  where  the  object 
of  my  love  shines  in  perfect  beauty,  and  glorifles  God  with  a 
heavenly  activity  and  fulness  of  joy." 


80 


REMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

AS  A  FATHER. 

Though  to  every  one  of  his  childreu  my  father  was  gentle,  for- 
giving, and  full  of  love,  yet  toward  no  one  of  them  did  he  have 
occasion  for  such  patience,  such  tenderness,  such  unwearied  devo- 
tion, as  to  myself. 

Unlike  many  professional  men,  Dr.  Woods  never  refused  his 
children  admittance  to  his  study,  even  during  his  busiest  hours. 
Seated  in  his  large  arm-chair,  with  the  leaf  attached,  bordered  by  a 
compartment  for  the  inkstand,  sand-box,  and  wafers,  his  long 
goose-quill  in  his  hand,  he  would  turn  a  cheerful  face  to  the  slowly 
opening  door,  generally  with  the  question,  "  What  does  my  little 
girl  want? " 

How  well  1  remember  an  occasion  on  which  my  father  met  my 
rash  zeal  with  the  tenderest  forbearance  !  It  was  connected  with 
his  study-table.  This  was,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the 
year,  covered  with  books  and  papers  ;  to  ^n  unsophisticated  child, 
as  I  was,  presenting  an  appearance  of  the  greatest  disorder ;  to 
him,  who  could,  almost  in  the  dark,  put  his  finger  on  any  paper  or 
book  of  reference,  the  very  height  of  order. 

One  morning,  when  he  was  in  Boston,  I  was  seized  with  a  strong 


AS  A  FATHER. 


81 


desii'e  to^'a;  up  the  study,  and  thus  give  my  father  a  pleasant  sur- 
prise. Without  waiting  to  consult  my  mother,  I  at  once  proceeded 
to  sweep  and  dust,  without  recollecting  that  I  ought  to  cover  the 
table  with  a  large  cloth  kept  for  the  purpose.  At  the  end  of  an 
hour  and  a  half,  I  had  finished,  and  stood  gazing  about  me,  a 
glow  of  self-complacency  flushing  my  cheek.  The  table,  which 
usually  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  apartment,  I  had  with  some 
difficulty  pushed  back  against  the  wall.  Every  book  on  it  had 
been  returned  to  the  shelves  ;  but  where  were  the  papers  ?  At  first, 
I  had  thrown  them  on  the  floor,  but  suddenly  recollecting  that  they 
might  be  of  importance,  I  had  gathered  them  up  into  a  drawer  in 
the  closet,  usually  containing  waste  paper.  For  the  first  time  in 
my  life,  I  saw  the  table  cleared  from  what  I  called  "  that  old 
rubbish." 

I  cast  one  glance  back,  as  I  was  going  out,  to  announce  my  tri- 
umph to  my  mother.  I  confess  1  was  startled.  It  looked  so  bare, 
so  desolate,  —  as  if  somebody  was  dead.  For  the  first  time,  doubts 
as  to  the  propriety  of  my  conduct  obtruded  themselves. 

"  "Will  father  like  it?  "  I  asked  myself,  with  a  beating  heart.  1 
went  up  to  mother's  room,  and  said,  — 

"  Will  you  please  come  down  to  the  study,  a  moment?"  1  can 
tell  by  her  actions,  I  thought,  what  he  is  likely  to  think  of  my 
morning's  work. 

"  Why,  Hatty  !  what  have  you  done,  child?  "  cried  mother,  lift- 


82 


REMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


ing  up  her  hands.  "  Did  n't  you  know  that  your  father  wishes  his 
books  and  papers  to  be  undisturbed  ? " 

I  began  to  cry,  sobbing  out  the  words,  "  I  thought  he 'd  like  to 
see  it  look  nice." 

Mother  soothed  me,  by  saying  she  was  sure  I  meant  to  do  right ; 
but  I  could  see  she  was  greatly  troubled,  and  anxious  about  the 
result. 

When  father  came  home,  instead  of  running  to  meet  him,  I 
locked  myself  into  my  chamber,  crying  as  though  my  heart  was 
broken ;  for  my  sisters  and  brother  had  spared  no  pains  to  set 
before  me  the  enormity  of  my  crime,  each  of  them  repeating  over 
and  over  the  exclamation,  — 

"  Oh,  what  will  father  say  !  " 

At  length  some  one  called  me. 

"  Harriette,  father  wants  you  to  come  to  the  study,  right 
away  !  " 

A  more  abject,  hopeless  child  than  I  was,  I  trust,  never  existed. 
Such  a  summons  foreboded  dreadful  evil.  I  turned  the  handle  to 
the  study-door,  quaking  in  every  limb.    What  did  I*"expect  to  see  ? 

My  dear,  forgiving,  patient  father  sat  in  his  usual  place,  having 
pulled  his  chair  out  from  the  wall.  I  cast  one  glance  into  his  grave 
but  loving  face,  and,  seeing  no  anger  there,  I  ran  and  threw  myself 
into  his  outstretched  arms.  For  a  minute  or  two  he  let  me  cry,  and 
then  I  sobbed  out  — 


AS  A  FATHER. 


83 


"I  didn't  mean  to  be  naughty,  father,  I  thought  you'd  like 
it.  I  thought  you 'd  smile  and  say,  '  Good  girl ' ;  I 'm  so  sorry, 
father." 

"What  do  you  think  I  sent  for  you  to  come  to  me  for?"  he 
asked,  putting  his  hand  under  my  chin  and  lifting  my  tear-stained 
face.  "I  want  to  thank  you,  dear,  for  doing  what  you  thought 
would  please  me.  Your  mother  says  you  worked  very  hard ;  she 
says  you  did  n't  understand  why  I  keep  my  table  covered  with 
books  and  papers.  Now,  let  me  tell  you,  my  dear,  where  you  did 
wrong.  You  should  have  consulted  your  mother  ;  she  would  have 
told  you  that  it  would  not  be  a  kindness  to  me,  as  you  intended  ; 
that  it  would  give  me  great  and  lasting  trouble.  I  am  afraid  to 
think  how  many  weeks,  perhaps  mouths,  I  shall  have  to  labor  to 
get  my  notes  and  references  in  order  again.  If  you  have  destroyed 
the  papers,  which,  I  suppose,  seemed  useless  to  you,  it  will  be  a 
more  serious  lo^s  than  you  can  conceive  of." 

"  I  have  n't  destroyed  them,  father,  I  saved  every  little  mite  of 
a  scrap.  I  know  where  a  good  many  of  them  were  stuck  in  be- 
tween the  leaves  of  the  books.    May  I  help  you  put  them  back  ?  " 

He  sighed,  and  I  now  saw  he  looked  very  anxious.  "  I 'm  afraid 
that  will  be  impossible,  my  dear  ;  I  waut  you  to  learn  a  lesson  from 
this." 

I  pulled  out  the  drawer  and  brought  it  to  him.  While  he  picked 
out  his  important  references,  which  had,  perhaps,  taken  him  weeks 


84 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


to  prepare,  I  ran  to  the  book-shelves  and  began  hurriedly  to  take 
down  one  volume  after  another. 

*'  There,  father,  a  blue  paper,  all  written  over,  was  stuck  in  here, 
just  so." 

My  voice  was  so  eager,  father  could  n't  help  smiling,  though  he 
said,  seriously,  — 

"  When  your  mother  first  told  me,  I  was  afraid  I  should  n't  make 
up  the  loss  of  labor  for  months." 

Many  and  many  a  time,  even  since  I  commenced  writing  these 
reminiscences,  with  my  table  covered  with  memoranda  and  dates, 
with  old  letters  filed  and  placed  in  piles  according  to  the  subjects, 
with  old  sermons  and  books  of  reference,  have  I  thought  of  my 
father's  study-table  and  wondered  at,  while  I  admired,  his  forbear- 
ance and  ready  forgiveness  of  my  involuutary  error.  I  am  sure 
any  theologian  will  sympathize  with  Iiim. 

One  of  the  early  recollections  of  m3'  childh'joii,  in  connection 
with  my  father,  is  his  taking  uiy  hand  and  introducing  me  to  General 
Lafayette,  then,  in  1824,  on  a  visit  to  this  country.  My  father, 
as  acting  president  of  the  theological  seminary,  had  made  arrange- 
ments at  the  Mansion  House  (a  building  erected  on  the  hill,  by 
Governor  Phillips)  for  the  reception  of  the  di-tinguished  guests. 
Theological  students,  members  of  Phillips  Academy,  and  others 
were  there  to  receive  and  welcome  one  who  had  been  so  true  a 
friend  in  the  time  of  our  national  struggle.    I  recollect  that  my 


AS  A  FATHEB. 


85 


sisters  and  myself,  with  the  children  of  the  other  professors,  were 
arranged  on  one  side  of  the  room  ;  my  youngest  sister,  Sophia,  being 
placed  in  a  prominent  position,  where  she  stood  on  a  chair.  I  well 
remember  how  proud  I  was  of  my  father,  of  his  commanding- 
height  and  graceful  ease  of  manner,  as  he  escorted  General 
Lafayette  into  the  room,  and  introduced  him  to  the  ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen inside  the  parlor.  Among  those  on  the  general's  staff  was 
Major  Josiah  Quincy,  of  Boston,  conspicuous  by  being  in  full  mil- 
itary costume,  with  gold  epaulettes  and  bright  buttons.  Lafayette, 
on  the  contrary,  was  arrayed  in  a  plain  blue  coat  and  nankeen 
pantaloons. 

When  my  father,  in  passing  around  the  room,  came  to  us,  an 
incident  occurred  which  made  quite  a  laugh.  My  little  sister, 
scarcely  five  years  old,  was  much  attracted  by  the  magnificence  of 
Major  Quincy's  appearance,  and  when  Lafayette  kindly  took  her 
hand,  she  snatched  it  away  and  put  it  behind  her,  exclaiming,  "  I 
don't  want  to  shake  hands  with  you,  I  want  to  shake  hands  with 
that  man,  there,"  pointing  to  Major  Quincy.  This  frankness  so 
much  pleased  Lafayette,  that  he  bent  down  and  kissed  her. 

In  the  winter  following  my  fifteenth  birthday,  in  consequence  of 
a  fall  upon  the  ice,  on  my  way  to  school,  my  health  was  seriously 
affected.  After  a  few  weeks,  I  was  placed  under  the  care  of  a 
most  skilful  physician  in  Boston,  who  ordered  that  I  should  be 
kept  in  bed  until  the  inflammation  of  the  spine  was  removed. 


86 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


For  more  than  a  year  I  lay  exhausted  by  suffering,  and  by  the 
loss  of  blood  from  cupping  and  leeching.  During  all  this  time  the 
devotion  of  my  dear  parents  never  flagged.  My  father's  first  visit 
on  entering  the  house  was  to  my  bedside,  his  cheerful  countenance 
lighting  up  my  room.  "^^Tien  able  to  hold  a  pen  or  pencil,  I  used 
to  amuse  myself  by  writing  little  notes  to  him,  which  no  press  of 
business  prevented  him  from  answering. 

He  went  far  and  near  to  obtain  little  delicacies  to  tempt  my 
appetite.  He  sang  to  me  ;  he  prayed  with  me.  In  his  notes  now 
before  me,  he  repeatedly  says,  "  You  are  seldom  long  absent  from 
my  mind."  "  I  have  thought  of  30U  almost  all  day."  I  insert 
here  a  letter,  which  he  sent  up  to  uie  from  his  stud}'  one  day,  when 
I  had  been  suffering  intensely  :  — 

My  dear  Haeriette,  —  But  little  time  passes  without  turning  my 
thoughts  to  you.  God  is  showing  you  great  kindness  in  giving  you 
loving  parents  to  watch  over  you,  and  especially  such  precious  con- 
solations of  his  Spirit.  While  under  this  visitation  from  the  hand 
of  God,  I  hope  you  will  be  striving  after  higher  attainments  in 
submission  and  meekness,  and  trust  in  God.  Oh !  you  have 
reason  forever  to  love  your  Heavenly  Father  with  all  your  heart. 
And  now  you  may  honor  him  more,  perhaps,  than  you  ever  have 
before.  His  design  in  this  affliction  is  merciful  and  gracious,  and 
the  fruit  of  it  will  be  precious  indeed,  if  youi-  heart  looks  to  God 


AS  A  FATHER. 


87 


and  seeks  spiritual  blessings.  How  happy,  if  our  bodily  disorders 
may  promote  our  spiritual  health  !  Labor,  my  dear  child,  after  a 
constant  sense  of  the  presence  of  your  blessed  Saviour,  and  make 
known  to  him  all  your  desires,  and  thank  him  for  all  your  favors. 

I  trust  you  will  have  no  feelings  of  impatience  because  you  do 
not  get  well  at  once.  Remember  that  word,  "It  is  good  for  us 
not  only  to  hope,  but  quietly  to  wait  for  the  salvation  of  the 
Lord." 

As  ever,  your  affectionate  father, 

L.  Woods. 

At  the  end  of  a  year,  contrary  to  the  expectations  of  my  physi- 
cians, I  became  convalescent.  My  father's  joy  was  expressed  in 
his  countenance,  his  step,  his  whole  manner.  "  I  find  myself 
making  plans,"  he  said,  "  for  your  benefit.  Do  not  be  discouraged 
about  your  studies  ;  you  are  young  yet.  When  you  are  better,  you 
shall  have  every  advantage  that  I  can  give  you." 

At  length  my  physician  allowed  me  to  begin  to  take  exercise. 
My  father  contrived  a  low  wagon  (which  I  have  kept  to  this  day), 
upon  which  a  narrow  mattress  could  be  placed,  so  that  I  could  be 
drawn  through  the  rooms  in  the  second  story,  the  arrangement  of 
our  large  house  being  such  that  I  could  be  taken  from  my  own 
chamber  round  through  the  four  square  rooiias  to  my  apartment 
again.    My  father  invariably  assisted  in  removing  me  from  my 


88 


BEMimSCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


bed  to  the  carriage,  and  he  himself  drew  me  round  and  round  as 
long  as  I  could  endure  it.  Before  this  he  had  purchased  a  piano 
for  my  use  1  had  heen  tal<:ing-  lessons  in  music  previous  to  my 
illness,  but  he  would  not  allow  the  instrument  to  be  unloel'.cd  until 
I  was  able  to  be  carried  down  stairs.  la  every  possible  way  he 
endeavored  to  cheer  and  comfort  me  during  my  severe  aftliction, 
while  in  his  letters  he  urged  me  to  improve  the  time  bj'  a  more 
entii'e  consecration  to  God. 


ATTACHMENT  TO  HIS  FBIENDS. 


89 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

ATTACHMENT  TO  HIS  FRIENDS. 

My  father's  attachment  to  his  friends  was  ardent  and  unchange- 
able. His  affection  for  John  H.  Chinch  commenced  in  1792  at 
Leicester  Academy,  and  in  after  years  grew  stronger  and  stronger. 
Never  shall  I  forget  the  delight  of  my  father,  manifested  in  every 
feature,  when  the  old-fashioned  "  shay,"  containing  the  good  man, 
drove  up  to  the  south  door.  Father  and  mother  hastened  to 
receive  and  welcome  him,  and  show  him  to  the  seat  of  honor  at 
our  table. 

Often  as  a  child  have  I  sat  and  gazed  in  that  face,  whose  chief 
beauty  was  the  expression  of  goodness  stamped  indelibly  on  the 
homely  features,  the  forehead  entirely  concealed  by  the  gray  hair 
combed  over  it,  and  cut  straight  above  the  eyebrows.  I  have 
gazed,  and  wondered  why  my  father  loved  this  man  so  dearly,  and, 
—  shall  I  confess  it?  —  while  I  gazed,  I  have  become  thankful  that 
my  father  was  a  handsome  man  with  beautiful  white  teeth,  looking 
so  attractive  when  he  smiled,  as  he  was  smiling  now. 

"Brother  Church"  was  my  father's  loving  name  for  this  dear 
Christian  friend.  When  the  holy  man  had  folded  his  hands  for 
the  last  time,  and  his  bereaved  brother  had  said  words  of  respect 


90 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  RECORDS. 


and  affection  over  his  inanimate  body,  he  felt  that  one  strong  tie 
to  earth  had  been  sundered, — there  was  one  more  silver  cord 
drawing  him  to  the  mansions  above. 

For  his  coUeages  in  the  seminary  my  father  always  cherished  an 
ai'dent  attachment.*  Brother  Stuart,  Brother  Porter,  and  Brother 
Emerson  were  household  names  more  familiar  to  his  daughters  than 
those  of  earlier  and  later  date  :  Professor  Porter,  whom  my  father 
often  compared  to  the  beloved  disciple  ;  Stuart,  who,  in  his  zeal  and 
impetuosity,  resembled  Peter ;  and  Emerson,  who,  like  Nathaniel, 
was  an  Israelite  without  guile. 

Of  these  tlu-ee,  I  knew  and  loved  Professor  Stuart  the  best.  I 
loved  to  listen  to  my  father  when  he  talked  of  him,  and  to  notice 
how  proud  he  was  of  his  colleague's  acciuisitions  and  success ;  how 
he  delighted  in  his  usefulness  ;  how  pleased  to  quote  from  his  pub- 
lished works,  even  though  there  were  shades  of  difference  in  their 
opinions. 

The  eccentricities  of  Brother  Stiuxrt  were  a  source  of  great 
amusement  to  my  father.  T  n  coUect  one  day,  when  he  returned 
from  his  usual  walk  to  the  village,  that  he  came  in  with  a  broad 
smile  on  his  face.  It  was  a  raw,  chilly  day,  and  his  long  surtout 
was  buttoned  up  to  the  chin. 

*  Many  letters,  proving  my  lather's  devoted  love  to  liis  friends,  which  I  had 
copied  into  my  book,  have  since  been  omitted,  they  having  been  introduced  into 
his  History  of  the  Theological  Seminary,  lately  issued. 


ATTACHMENT  TO  HIS  FRIENDS. 


91 


"  I  met  Brother  Stuart  in  the  village,"  he  said,  "  he  looked 
pinched  and  blue  with  the  east  wind. 

"  '  It's  too  raw  for  you  to  be  out  without  a  thicker  coat,'  I  said 
to  him. 

"Facing  suddenly  about  he  inquired  sharply,  'Who  made  you 
Governor? '  and  not  waiting  for  any  further  conversation,  he  walked 
off  at  a  rapid  pace." 

There  was  a  close  friendship  between  them  which  lasted  till 
death.  On  one  occasion,  when  Professor  Stuart  thought  my  father 
submitted  too  meekly  to  a  suggestion  of  a  younger  member  of  the 
faculty,  long  since  deceased,  he  burst  out,  — 

"  Brother  Woods,  why  don't  you  rebuke  him?  "  Theu,  turning 
to  the  offender  with  ineffable  scorn,  he  exclaimed,  Who  are  you 
that  dare  to  talk  so  to  your  betters  ?  You  are  n't  fit  to  unloose  the 
latchet  of  his  shoes." 

There  were  others  too,  eminent  Christian  men,  with  whom  my 
father  delighted  to  take  sweet  counsel,  —  Spring,  Morse,  Worcester, 
Evarts,  Wisner,  Hewett,  the  two  Danas,  Nettleton,  whose  visits 
always  gladdened  my  father's  heart,  Cornelius,  Tyler,  and  many 
others,  —  between  whom  and  my  father  were  ties  of  Christian  confi- 
dence and  affection,  —  ties,  blessed  be  God,  which  even  the  King 
of  Terrors  has  no  power  to  break. 

Then  across  the  water  there  were  hearts  closely  bound  to  his, 
Chalmers,  John  Pye  Smith,  Wardlaw,  Burder,  and  many  more,  — 


92 


BEMimSCENCES  AND  BECORDS. 


men  of  God  with  whom  my  father  had  frequent  correspondence, 
whom  having  not  seen  he  loved.  With  all  this  company  and  the 
great  cloud  of  witnesses  before  the  throne,  how  delightful  will  it  be 
to  recount  the  wonderful  plan  by  which  they,  and  others  of  the 
human  race,  were  saved  from  the  consequences  of  their  own  sins  ! 
Will  not  the  name  of  the  crucifi(!d,  glorious  Saviour  sound  sweet 
in  the  ears  of  these  believers  ? 

When  Drs.  Reed  and  Matheson  came  from  England  as  a  depu- 
tation to  the  churches  in  the  United  States,  we  were  so  privileged 
as  to  entertain  them  for  some  time  at  our  house.  For  these 
gentlemen,  particularly  the  first,  my  father  formed  a  tender  at- 
tachment. As  one  day  after  another  passed,  this  love  became  so 
closely  cemented  that  they  began  to  realize  how  painful  it  would 
be  to  separate. 

On  the  morning  of  the  day  when  our  visitors  must  leave,  father 
invited  Professor  Stuart,  and  I  think  also  Professor  Emerson,  to 
his  study  for  a  short  season  of  communion  in  prayer  before  they 
parted,  probably  never  more  to  meet  until  they  met  in  the  presence 
of  their  Saviour. 

An  hour  later  I  was  in  the  upper  hall,  just  going  to  descend, 
when  with  the  word,  "Hush  !  "  a  hand  was  laid  on  ray  shoulder  to 
detain  me. 

Nfiver  shall  1  forget  the  scene  I  then  witnessed.  The  stage- 
coach was  at  the  door,  and  the  parting  hour  had  come.    My  father 


ATTACHMENT  TO  HIS  FBIENDS. 


93 


and  Dr.  Reed,  of  whom  I  have  previously  spoken,  had  just  entered 
the  lower  hall  from  the  study,  when,  with  a  sudden  burst  of  emo- 
tion, they  fell  on  each  other's  neck,  kissed  each  other,  and  wept 
aloud.  Professor  Stuart  and  Dr.  Matheson  then  followed,  and  a 
similar  scene  took  place.  Besides  myself  there  were  many  other 
spectators,  but  I  suspect  not  a  dry  eye  among  them. 

The  painfulness  of  the  scene  was  a  little  relieved  when  Dr.  Reed, 
on  his  way  down  the  walk  to  the  coach,  said  hurriedly,  "  I  shall 
wish  to  visit  Niagara,  can't  I  take  New  Orleans  on  my  way?" 

"My  dear  friend,"  said  my  father,  a  smile  breaking  through 
his  tears,  "  you  have  little  idea  of  the  size  of  our  country. 

You  had  better  get  Dr.    to  mark  out  your  course  for  you. 

Farewell ! " 

From  the  published  account  of  the  tour  of  Drs.  Reed  and 
Matheson  through  the  country,  I  extract  the  following  para- 
graph :  — 

"  Happily,  I  was  near  Andover  when  the  storm  came  on,  and  on 
reaching  the  dwelling  of  Dr.  Woods  I  at  once  found  the  kindest 
reception,  and  the  opportunity  of  relieving  myself  of  wet  gar- 
ments. My  arrival  was  the  more  pleasant  as  I  met  with  so  many 
of  my  former  friends,  and  among  them  the  Lieutenant-Governor 
Armstrong  and  his  wife,  Dr.  Codman,  and  others.  .  .  .  At  the  com- 
mencement exercises,  Dr.  Woods,  who  presided,  looked  to  me  to 
offer  the  concluding  prayer  and  benediction.    The  people  showed 


94 


BEMimSCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


that  they  could  unite  the  spii-it  of  true  devotion  with  the  avocations 
of  the  day.  .  •  .  The  silence  was  affecting.  It  gave  to  our  last 
acts  great  solemnity. 

"  On  returning  to  Dr.  "Woods's  we  found  ourselves  in  the  bosom 
of  a  large  and  affectionate  family  circle.  We  closed  our  intercourse 
with  an  act  of  domestic  worship,  which  was  delightfully  solemn, 
aud  then  sought  repose  from  the  fatigues  of  the  day.  Though 
thus  hasty,  I  know  of  no  visit  that  has  been  more  delightful.  The 
Woods  family  is  full  of  sweet,  natural  affection.  Dr.  Woods  is 
greatly  blessed  in  his  childi'en,  and  they  in  their  father.  On  every 
side,  indeed,  there  was  an  overflow  of  kindness,  and  the  remem- 
brance of  Andover  will  be  sweet  and  sunny  to  me  !  " 

One  incident  connected  with  mj'  father's  friendship  and  corre- 
spondence with  Dr.  Wardlaw,  of  Edinburgh,  I  must  relate  :  — 

When  my  father's  published  works  were  ready  for  distribution, 
he  sent  one  of  the  first  sets  to  this  valued  friend.  In  due  time  he 
received  an  answer  which  gave  him  great  pleasure.  Dr.  Wardlaw 
wrote  that  upon  receiving  the  packet,  he  gazed  upon  the  engraved 
likeness  of  my  father,  in  the  first  volume,  with  considerable  sur- 
prise. Suddenly,  he  started  off  with  it  to  his  wife  and  family. 
Covering  the  name,  "  Leonard  Woods,"  at  the  bottom,  he  held  the 
picture  before  them.  "Why,  how  good!"  "It  is  perfect!' 
"When  did  you  have  it  taken?"  were  questions  eagerly  and  smil- 
ingly asked  by  one  aud  another.    It  was  afterwards  frequently 


ATTACHMENT  TO  HIS  FBIENDS. 


95 


remarked  by  mutual  friends,  that  the  likeness  between  Dr.  Ward- 
law  and  my  father  was  very  remarkable. 

The  ardor  of  my  father's  affections  gave  a  coloring  to  his  whole 
character.  No  one  could  witness  his  warmth  of  greeting,  his 
kindling  eye,  and  animated  features  on  meeting  a  friend,  without 
feeling  convinced  that  his  heart  was  in  the  right  place. 

In  his  letters  to  us  I  find  continual  reference  to  loved  and 
esteemed  friends :  — 

"  I  have  just  had  the  gladness  of  hea^t  to  meet  Dr.  John  Rice, 
from  Virginia.  He  and  his  wife  received  me  with  open  arms.  I 
hope  they  will  return  with  me  and  make  us  a  visit." 

"  Saw  and  conversed  with  Brother  Nettletou,  truly  a  man  of 
God.  Had  precious  commuuiou  witli  him.  He  will  spend  some 
days  with  us  next  week." 

"  Had  to-day  the  pleasure  of  dining  with  my  esteemed  friends, 
Drs.  Miller  and  Alexander,  from  Princeton.  I  Iiave  invited  them 
to  go  up  to  Andover,  which  they  will  probably  do  on  Saturday. 
Their  engagements  forbid  a  long  stay.  The  meetings  of  the 
Board  are  very  interesting.    Pray  for  us  and  for  the  missionaries." 

"  "We  have  just  had  a  precious  privilege  in  the  visit  of  Joseph 
John  Gurney,  an  English  Quaker,  who  has  published  an  excellent 
treatise  on  the  Sabbath.  He  came  to  our  house  accompanied  by 
Mr.  Boyce,  a  gentleman  of  his  own  denomination,  from  Lynn.  It 
is  delightful  to  think  that  we  shall  have  the  friendship  and  society 


96 


BEMINI8CEXCE8  AND  BECORDS. 


of  many  such  men  in  heaven.  It  warmed  and  animated  my  heart 
to  talk  with  this  holy  man." 

My  father's  attachment  to  his  friends  is  also  exemplified  in  his 
intercourse  with  Samuel  Abbott,  Esq  ,  one  of  the  founders  of  the 
seminary,  who  endowed  the  professorship  of  Christian  theology*, 
and  nominated  my  father  to  fill  it.  At  the  funeral  of  this  worthy 
man,  he  said,  — 

"I  owe  it  to  the  memory  of  my2'«<''0Ji  and  friend  to  declai'e 
that  I  have  considered  it  one  of  the  most  precious  privileges  of  my 
life  to  enjoy  his  paternal  affection,  and  to  be  near  him  in  his  feeble 
and  languishing  state." 

Of  Dr.  Morse  he  thus  speaks  in  his  sermon  at  the  installation  of 
his  successor :  — 

"  You  are  to  take  the  place  of  one  with  whom  I  have  been  inti- 
mately connected  in  the  most  important  transactions  of  my  life  ; 
who  has  been  endeared  to  me  by  a  thousand  acts  of  friendship,  and 
whom  I  would  never  cease  to  love  and  honor." 

Ill  his  address  to  his  pupils  he  sums  up  his  counsels  in  these  two 
maxims :  — 

First  of  all,  both  in  regard  to  your  own  personal  welfare  and 
to  your  usefulness  in  the  service  of  Christ,  I  urge  upon  each  one  of 
you  the  importance  of  making  high  attainments  in  holiness;  also 
the  Christian  duty  of  lovijig  one  another  tvith  jmre  hearts  fervently. 
Be  of  the  same  mind.    Be  perfectly  joined  together  in  the  same 


ATTACHMENT  TO  HIS  FB1END8. 


97 


judgment ;  and  whether  you  live  in  the  same  neighborhood  or 
country,  or  in  distant  parts  of  the  world,  strive  by  mutual  sym- 
pathy, by  brotherly  correspondence,  and  by  intercessory  prayer  to 
alleviate  each  other's  sorrows,  to  encourage  each  other  to  persever- 
ing fidelity,  and  in  all  respects  to  promote  each  other's  welfare. 
The  Lord  grant  that  you  may  know  the  happiness  of  being  thus 
united  in  love. 

"  The  I'emembrance  of  you,  and  my  intercourse  with  you,  will 
always  be  a  source  of  pleasure  to  me.  It  is  the  desire  of  my  heart 
and  my  prayer  to  God,  that  you  may  grow  in  grace,  that  you  may 
see  the  pi'osperity  of  the  church,  and  that  the  peace  which  Jesus 
gives  may  be  yours  in  life  and  in  death.  And  if  you  and  I  may  at 
last  have  a  place  among  the  holy  and  happy  in  the  kingdom  of 
God,  how  sincerely  shall  we  ascribe  our  salvation  to  the  praise 
of  the  glory  of  his  grace  ! 

"  Finally,  brethren,  farewell.  '  Be  steadfast,  immovable,  always 
abounding  in  the  work  of  the  Lord.  The  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  and  the  love  of  God,  and  the  communion  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
be  with  you  all.  Amen.' 

"  Leonard  Woods." 


98 


REMINISCENCES  AND  REGOBDS. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

HIS  BIRTHDAY. 

As  my  father's  sixtieth  birthday  approached,  his  children 
resolved  to  celebrate  it  in  an  unusual  manner.  Two  older  sisters 
were  closeted  with  mother,  and  came  forth  from  their  retirement 
with  an  au*  of  mystery,  very  aggravating  to  us  younger  ones. 
They  kept  their  secret  two  days,  then,  needing  our  help,  they  un- 
folded the  project  to  our  astonished  ears. 

All,  however,  was  to  be  kept  from  father,  which  was  hard 
indeed,  as  he  was  the  usual  repositor}'  of  all  our  joys  and  sorrows. 
When  he  was  gone  to  lecture,  wagons  of  evergreen  came  up  to 
the  back  entrance,  and  disappeared  in  a  twinkling  behind  the 
parlor  doors  ;  a  large  clothes-horse,  which  folded  together  in  three 
parts,  was  also  confiscated  for  the  grand  occasion.  Sarah  and  I 
were  sent  to  the  houses  of  the  professors  with  notes  of  invitation 
to  tea  on  the  nineteenth  day  of  June,  1834,  which  invitations,  I 
may  say  here,  were  accepted  on  the  spot. 

In  the  mean  time,  from  the  kitchen  the  sound  of  egg-beating, 
steps  huiTying  to  and  fro,  the  odor  of  roasted  coffee,  and,  on  open- 
ing the  great  Rumford  oven,  also,  of  delicious  cakes,  tarts,  and 
biscuit,  gave  evidence  that  we  were  on  the  eve  of  some  unusual 


HIS  BIBTHDAY. 


99 


event.  Father  passed  through  the  halls,  trying  to  conceal  a  smile, 
without  a  word  of  inquiry.  We  thought  at  the  time  that  his  ab- 
straction of  mind  was  most  providential.  I  think  now  that  mother 
had  given  him  a  private  hint  as  to  his  conduct. 

Certainly,  every  part  of  our  plan  prospered  in  a  most  won- 
derful manner,  and  the  afternoon  of  the  expected  19th  at  last 
arrived.  It  was  also  my  sister  Sarah's  birthday.  Either  then 
or  earlier  she  greatly  amused  father  by  saying,  "You  and  I, 
papa,  are  just  as  old  as  each  other,  'cause  our  birthdays  are 
together." 

Fortunately  for  us,  father  had  a  lecture  at  four  o'clock,  so  that 
we  had  a  fine  opportunity  to  prepare  the  study  for  the  first  recep- 
tion of  the  guests.  To  the  mysterious  room  on  the  other  side  of 
the  wide  hall  no  one,  not  initiated,  was  to  be  admitted  until  after 
tea. 

A  little  past  five,  my  father  returned  from  his  lecture,  accom- 
panied by  Professor  Stuart,  Dr.  Thomas  H.  Skinner,  and  his  other 
colleagues.  Every  seat  at  the  long  table  was  occupied.  Not  a 
word  was  said  of  any  further  celebration  of  the  birthday,  to  which 
allusion  was  frequently  made  during  the  repast.  When  thanks 
for  social  and  other  blessings  had  been  returned,  two  of  my  sis- 
ters went  to  father  and  asked  him  to  go  to  the  parlor.  Mother, 
then  taking  the  arm  of  one  of  her  sons,  invited  all  the  guests  to 
follow. 


100 


BEMINISCENCE8  AND  BECOBDS. 


When  the  parlor  door  was  thrown  open,  a  novel  and  interesting 
scene  awaited  us.  A  beautiful  arbor  of  evergreen,  trimmed  with 
roses,  was  in  full  view,  within  which  were  two  chairs,  to  which 
seats  of  honor  our  parents  were  immediately  led.  Mother  had 
made  some  objection  to  being  placed  in  so  prominent  a  position, 
but  we  soon  overruled  it  by  the  plea,  — 

"You  know,  mother,  that  father  won't  enjoy  it  at  all  if  he  has 
not  you  by  his  side." 

The  company  being  dispersed  about  the  room,  the  children 
and  grandchildren  present  formed  a  group  by  themselves.  Pres- 
ently, the  children  commenced  singing  the  following  words,  com- 
posed for  the  occasion  by  my  youngest  brother,  Daniel,  then 
a  student  in  the  seminary :  — 

CHILDREN, 

Upon  this  happy  natal  day 
Of  early  youth  and  threescore  years, 

Joined  here  in  heart  by  those  away, 
We  bring  our  thanks  to  Him  wlio  hears. 

And  next  to  Him  our  tliaidis  are  due 
To  those  who  loved  us  first  and  best, 

Our  parents  here,  before  them  view 
Their  chilcU-en  rise  and  call  them  blest. 


HIS  BIBTMDAT. 


101 


GRANDCHILDREN. 

Four  childish  voices  then  sang  the  words  arranged  for  them  :  — 
May  God,  whom,  you  have  told  us, 

Beholds  us  from  above, 
In  a  rich,  constant  shower 
Shed  down  his  peace  and  love. 

With  sadness  we  would  mention 

Those  in  the  cold  damp  ground, 
A  father,  brother,  sister, 

Alas !  are  nowhere  found. 

Perhaps  their  spirits  o'er  us 

Hover  on  angel's  wing ; 
The  loved  ones  stoop  and  listen, 
And  hear  us  pray  and  sing. 

CHORUS  BY  ALL. 
May  heaven  its  choicest  treasures 

Shed  ever  on  your  way ! 
And  may  your  sunset  hours 

Be  like  the  closing  day ! 

Melt  in  sweet  peace  away. 

Reference  is  made  in  the  preceding  lines  to  my  sister  Sarah's 
birthday  occurring  annually  at  the  same  time  as  my  father's ;  also 
to  the  decease  of  my  brother  Joseph,  who  died  just  as  he  was  about 


102 


REMINISCENCES  AND  BECOEDS. 


to  enter  on  the  work  of  the  ministry,  and  to  my  nephew  and  niece, 
Leonard  and  Julia,  infant  children  of  my  sister,  Mary  G.  W. 
Smith. 

When  the  singing  had  ceased,  little  Mary,  then  the  youngest 
granddaughter,  carried  up  to  father  a  handsomely  bound  Bible,  on 
the  cover  of  which  was  printed  in  gilt  letters  these  words  :  ' '  Pre- 
sented to  the  Rev.  Leonard  Woods,  D.  D.,  on  his  sixtieth  birthday, 
by  his  affectionate  children,  June  19,  1834";  on  the  reverse: 
"  His  children  rise  up  and  call  him  blessed  "  ;  on  the  fly-leaf  :  "  Our 
dear  father  is  requested  to  accept,  on  his  sixtieth  birthday,  this 
Holy  Book,  which  has  been  the  guide  of  his  youth  and  the  comfort 
of  his  middle  age,  with  the  fervent  prayer  of  his  affectionate  chil- 
dren that  it  maj'  be  the  light  and  staff'  of  his  declining  years. 
Audover,  June  19,  1834." 

My  father's  lip  quivered  with  emotion  when  he  read  these  words. 
He  leaned  forward,  and  kissed  the  cm-ly-headed  child  wlio  stood 
before  him,  then  passed  the  l)'jok  to  mother. 

Children  then  pressed  forward  to  give  him  his  birthday  kiss  ; 
after  this  an  hour  or  two  was  passed  by  all  present  in  the  mutual 
exchange  of  kind  sentiments  and  feelings. 

A  few  minutes  before  nine  o'clock  the  doxology  was  sung  to 
the  excellent  tune  of  "Old  Hundred,"  and  the  pleasant  party  was 
closed  with  prayer  ottered  In'  one  of  the  professors. 


AS  A  GOUNSELLOB. 


103 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

AS  A  COUNSELLOR. 

On  one  occasion  my  father's  strong  sympathy  hi  the  cause  of 
justice  led  him  to  act  as  a  legal  counsel  for  a  widow,  and  plead  hei" 
cause  before  a  court  of  referees.  These  gentlemen  were  Hon. 
Linus  Child,  Gov.  "William  Washburn,  and  Hon.  Uriel  Crocker. 

Unknown  to  my  father,  the  opposing  party  had  employed  a 
lawyer  to  present  their  cause.  He  expressed  his  surprise  at 
this  cii'cumstauce,  on  being  requested  by  the  court  to  open  the 
case. 

"  I  came  here  as  a  friend  to  Mrs.  ,"  he  said,     to  make  a 

plain  statement  of  facts  to  these  gentlemen,  feeling  sure  we  all 
wish  to  do  exactly  what  is  right.  I  had  no  idea  a  lawyer  was  to 
appear  against  me.    I  am  little  used  to  the  shrewd  practice  of 

lawyers ;  however,  1  feel  sure  that  Mr.  ,  for  whom  I  have  a 

great  esteem,  has  the  same  end  in  view,  —  a  desire  for  justice." 

He  then  proceeded  to  a  full  and  clear  statement  of  the  case,  a 
minute  report  of  which  has  been  kindly  forwarded  me  by  one  of 
the  referees. 

It  was  my  privilege  to  be  present  during  the  three  days  of  the 
session  of  the  court,  and  never  shall  1  forget  the  expression  on  my 


104 


BEMINISCENGES  AND  BECOEDS. 


father's  face  when,  on  being  called  as  a  witness,  he  was  requested 
to  hold  up  his  right  hand  and  take  the  customary  oath. 

Addressing  the  referees,  he  said,  with  considerable  emotion,  — 

"  My  taking  the  oath  will  make  no  difference  in  what  I  say.  I 
am  perfectly  willing  to  do  so  if  it  is  necessary  ;  but  I  thought  we 
were  all  Christians ;  and  that  it  was  a  matter  of  course  that  we 
should  tell  the  truth." 

His  tall,  commanding  figure,  the  expression  of  perfect  guileless- 
ness  on  his  open  countenance,  impi'essed  all  present.  The  lawyer, 
however,  repeated  his  request,  and  raising  his  hand,  my  father 
took  the  oath  with  a  solemnity  I  never  saw  equalled. 

During  the  progress  of  the  trial,  one  of  the  witnesses  expressed 
surprise  at  some  fact  which  came  out,  at  which  my  father's  eyes 
opened  wide  with  astonishment.  He  knew  nothing  and  cared 
nothing  about  the  quibbles  of  law.  He  had  taken  his  oath  to  tell 
the  truth,  and  ihe  whole  truth,  and  nothing  should  prevent  him 
from  keeping  his  word.  He  arose  at  once  and  said  earnestly  to 
the  witness,  — 

"Why,  Mr.   ,  don't  you  remember  how  you  and  I  have 

often  talked  of  it  .  .  .  and  lamented  it ;  and  how  you  said  —  " 

"  Out  of  order,"  called  the  lawyer,  motioning  father  to  his  seat. 

At  this  moment  the  faces  of  the  referees  would  have  been  a 
study  for  an  aitist.  There  was  such  an  effort  to  maintain  proper 
dignity,  while  their  features  were  convulsed  with  mirth.    It  was 


AS  A  COUNSELLOR. 


105 


certainly  unusual  to  appeal  to  the  opposing  party  for  corroboration 
of  the  most  important  facts  in  the  case  ;  but  my  dear,  frank  father, 
never  dreaming  he  had  done  anything  out  of  the  way,  quietly  pro- 
posed that  the  next  witness  be  called. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  third  day  the  lawyer  opened  the  defence, 
and,  to  quote  from  the  paper  of  the  referees,  "  built  up  a  high 
structure,  but  Dr.  Woods,  in  a  very  skilful  manner,  while  closing 
the  defence,  pulled  out  the  underpinning,  and  the  building  fell  to 
pieces." 

The  referees  then  requested  to  be  by  themselves.  Father  and 
the  opposing  counsel  went  out  of  the  room  together,  when  the 
lawyer  with  a  laugh  exclaimed,  — 

"  Dr.  Woods,  1  '11  never  be  in  a  case  with  yow.  again,  unless  we 
are  on  the  same  side." 

My  father  and  I  had  scarcely  reached  home,  in  a  drenching  rain, 
when  he  was  sent  for  to  return.  He  told  me  that  the  referees 
warmly  complimented  him  on  his  maiden  plea,  and  informed  him 
that  he  had  won  the  case. 

They  afterwards  said  that  his  perfectly  fau",  ingenuous,  unso- 
phisticated manner  of  dealing  with  witnesses  and  testimony  would 
be  ruinous  to  any  legal  opponent. 

On  another  similar  occasion,  when  my  father  was  called  upon  as 
a  witness,  he  gave  his  testimony  in  what  seemed  to  the  hearers 
such  a  frank,  open,  and  unguarded  manner  that  the  judge,  before 


106 


REMINISCENCES  AND  RECORDS. 


whom  the  case  was  being  tried,  went  to  him  in  private,  and 
said,  — 

"  You  tell  too  much,  my  friend.  When  you  are  cross-examined, 
the  lawyers  may  be  able  to  trip  you  up." 

"I  don't  understand  you,  sir,"  exclaimed  my  father,  fixing  his 
mild  blue  eyes  full  upon  the  speaker's  face.  "  Of  course,  the  more 
they  cross-examine  me,  the  better  I  shall  like  it.  I  have  bound 
myself,  by  a  solemn  oath,  to  tell  the  whole  truth  as  far  as  I  know 
it.  If  my  memory  fails  me  in  regard  to  any  fact,  I  can  refer  at 
once  to  my  opponent,  who  certainly,  whatever  his  shortcomings, 
is  an  honest,  ti'uthful  man." 

"But,"  exclaimed  the  judge,  laughing  heartily,  "your  oppo- 
nent is  not  bound  to  corroborate  your  testimony,  when  it  impli- 
cates himself." 

"  I  can  see  no  better  way  to  get  at  the  exact  truth,"  remarked 
my  father,  decidedly. 

And  this  course  he  really  pursued.  Entirely  unconscious  that 
he  was  departing  from  the  usual  method,  two  or  three  times, 
during  the  trial,  he  appealed  to  the  opposite  party  to  correct  him 
should  his  statements  not  exactly  correspond  with  the  facts.  In 
vain  the  counsel  on  the  other  side  shouted,  *'  Not  allowable  !  Inad- 
missible !  "  The  harm  had  been  done,  and  could  not  be  taken  back. 
But  they  all  agreed  that  with  his  views  of  the  solemnity  attached 
to  an  oath,  the  less  they  had  to  do  with  him  in  court,  the  better. 


QUICK  SYMPATHY. 


107 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

QUICK  SYMPATHY, 

My  father  was  a  man  of  keen,  quick  sympathies.  Suffering  and 
sorrow,  in  every  form,  found  a  ready  response  in  his  breast.  The 
little  griefs  of  his  children  were  never  too  small  or  too  trifling  to 
receive  his  notice  How  quickly  they  often  disappeared,  when  we 
had  poured  them  into  his  ear,  and  received  his  pitying  caresses ! 
The  trials  and  afflictions  of  his  pupils  weighed  upon  him,  and 
brought  a  cloud  over  his  usually  serene  face. 

In  some  cases,  his  quick  sympathies  led  him  to  bestow  aid  upon 
those  who  were  unworthy ;  but  even  when  he  found  he  had  been 
imposed  upon,  he  could  not  learn  a  lesson  from  the  fact.  There 
was  a  freshness  and  simplicity  in  his  feelings,  in  this  respect,  truly 
wonderful.  He  was  a  very  child  in  some  things ;  his  filling  eye 
and  trembling  lip,  when  listening  to  a  tale  of  suffering,  oh,  how 
well  I  can  recall  them  !  Ever  after  I  knew  my  father,  until  within 
a  few  years  of  his  decease,  he  never  read  fiction.  When  he  was 
preparing  his  theological  works,  my  mother,  for  the  relaxation  of 
his  mind,  used  occasionally  to  read  aloud  a  work  of  this  character. 
At  one  time  she  read  "  Oliver  Twist."  The  trials  and  struggles 
of  the  poor  child  made  a  deep  impression  on  his  mind.  Poor 


108 


BEMimSCENCES  AND  RECORDS. 


Oliver  needed  a  friend.  He  longed  to  be  that  friend  ;  to  encour- 
age him  to  be  honest,  and  faithful  to  his  own  convictions  of 
right. 

One  evening  when  there  seemed  great  danger  that  the  friendless 
boy  would  be  led  into  sin,  my  father,  to  whom  the  scenes  were 
all  as  real  as  those  passing  before  his  eye,  actually  carried  the 
little  orphan  to  the  throne  of  grace,  and  pleaded,  by  God's  promises 
to  the  fatherless,  that  he  would  befriend  the  desolate  child,  and 
keep  him  from  all  evil. 

At  the  annual  exhibition  of  Phillips  Academy  it  used  to  be 
customary  to  have  two  or  more  dialogues ;  the  speakers  acting 
their  parts  as  well  as  they  were  able.  I  remember  being  present 
on  one  occasion,  when  the  exercises  were  of  an  uncommonly  thrill- 
ing nature.  My  father,  with  some  of  his  colleagues,  occupied 
prominent  seats  on  the  platform  opposite  the  stage,  they  being  quite 
as  conspicuous  as  the  actors.  A  scene  commenced,  in  which  a 
father,  for  some  political  offence,  was  banished  from  his  home  and 
country,  separated  from  his  wife  and  only  son,  and  confined  in  a 
dungeon,  in  some  foreign  land.  Years  passed ;  the  son  grew  up 
without  being  aware,  I  think,  of  the  existence  of  his  father,  when 
circumstances  drove  him  also  from  home  to  the  very  country  where 
that  father  lay  a  hopeless  prisoner.  At  last,  for  some  fancied 
crime,  he  too  was  thrown  into  prison.  Parent  and  child  met  face 
to  face,  but,  alas,  as  strangers  !    Companions  in  misery,  the  sound 


QUICK  SYMPATHY. 


109 


of  the  young  man's  voice  at  last  recalled  loved  scenes.  The 
poor  prisoner  started  wildly  to  his  feet,  his  arms  thrown  over 
his  head. 

I  was  not  the  only  one  whose  attention  was  divided  between  the 
well-acted  play  and  the  evident  restraint  my  father  was  placing  on 
his  feelings.  He  had  entered  into  the  sorrows  of  the  poor  father 
with  his  whole  soul.  His  foot  moved  up  and  down  in  his  own 
peculiar  manner.  His  lip  quivered.  When  the  two  rushed  into 
each  other's  arms,  the  excitement  was  more  than  he  could  endure. 
With  a  sob,  which  he  could  not  repress,  he  rose  hastily  and  left 
the  room,  followed  by  the  gaze  of  sundry  among  the  trustees  who 
had  been  watching  his  emotion  with  an  amused  smile. 

Hon.  B.  W.  Harris,  member  of  Congress,  informed  me  that 
he  once  sat  in  the  chapel,  in  Andover,  where  he  could  watch  my 
father  during  one  of  Gough's  famous  lectures.  He  said  that 
father's  interest  and  emotion  during  the  relation  of  Gough's  stories 
were  so  intense  and  childlike,  it  was  worth  more  to  watch  him  than 
to  listen  to  the  lecturer. 

Shortly  after  the  burning  of  the  Charlestown  nunnery,  my  father 
was  one  evening  sitting  in  his  study,  when  the  door  was  suddenly 
thrown  open,  and  a  young  girl  arrayed  in  the  garb  of  a  nun, 
shrouded  from  head  to  feet,  rushed  to  his  side,  and  thi'ew  herself 
on  her  knees  before  him. 

"Save  me,  oh,  kind  sii" !  save  me!"  she  cried.    "I  have 


110 


REMINISCENCES  AND  BECORDS. 


escaped  from  the  convent.  My  pursuers  are  close  after  me.  Save 
me  !    Save  me  !  " 

My  father,  throwing  down  his  pen,  rose  suddenly,  every  feature 
blanched,  and  only  saj-ing,  "My  poor  child,  I  will  befriend  you. 
Come  with  me  to  my  wife  "  ;  led  her  out  to  the  sitting-room. 

Crouching  upon  the  floor,  with  her  face  hidden  in  her  hands,  the 
nun  remained,  while  father  hurriedly  requested  my  mother  to  con- 
ceal the  poor  wanderer  in  her  chamber,  and  attend  to  her  personal 
comfort. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  sympathizing  tenderness  in  my  father's 
pale  face  ;  the  anxious  care  that  she  should  be  in  safety  before 
the  threatened  pursuers  came  in  view ;  nor  the  indignation  which 
quickly  succeeded  these  emotions  when  he  found  the  appeal  had 
been  false,  his  sympathies  had  been  imposed  upon. 

From  the  first  moment  of  the  nun's  entrance  into  the  sitting- 
room.  I  thought,  notwithstanding  her  disguise,  there  was  some- 
thing strangelj'  familiar  in  her  appearance,  and  while  she  covered 
her  face,  took  the  liberty  to  draw  aside  the  veil.  As  I  half  sus- 
pected, the  ci-devant  runaway  was  my  most  intimate  companion, 
Elizabeth  Stuart. 


FBANENE8S  AND  FAITHFULNESS. 


Ill 


CHAPTER  XX. 

FRANKNESS  AND  FAITHFULNESS. 

My  father  was  the  frankest  man  I  ever  knew.  This  qualitj'  he 
especially  adrnked  in  others  ;  and  he  took  great  pains  to  cultivate 
it  in  his  children. 

He  often  sat  silent  when  some  subject  was  discussed  until  his 
opinion  was  asked,  when  he  gave  it  frankly,  though  invariably 
with  the  kindness  and  courtesy  which  were  a  part  of  himself. 

Especially  was  this  frankness  evident  in  his  method  of  dealing 
with  his  pupils.  They  were  invited  to  the  study  and  were  called 
upon  to  take  a  very  sweet  pill ;  but  they  were  not  dismissed  until 
their  sins  were  set  in  such  order  before  them  that  they  could  see 
them  without  a  microscope.  One  student,  Henry  Lyman,  the 
martyr  missionary,  told  me  that  his  pill  was  so  covered  with  pre- 
serve that  at  first  he  could  n't  taste  the  bitter ;  but  when  the  bitter 
came,  it  was  so  bitter  he  quite  forgot  the  sweet.  "After  all,"  he 
said,  "  I  can't  help  loving  Dr.  "Woods,  for  it  is  so  evident  that  he 
tells  me  my  faults  for  my  good  ;  and  then  he  puts  them  to  you  in 
such  a  way  you  can't  help  acknowledging  they  are  faults." 

When  I  was  a  child,  there  was  seldom  a  week  that  my  father  did 
not  have  letters  making  inquiries  concerning  candidates  for  the 


112 


REMINISCENCES  AND  RECORDS. 


ministry,  and  requesting  that  he  would  recommend  some  one  suitable 
for  the  parish  under  consideration. 

The  following  incidents,  illustrating  my  father's  frankness  and 
faithfulness,  I  quote  from  the  Congregationalist :  — 

"  On  one  occasion,  a  church  had  been  blessed  for  years  with  a 
good,  faithful  preacher  who  did  not  hesitate  to  declare  all  the 
counsel  of  God  ;  but  the  man  was  unfortunately  small,  and  had  a 
feeble  voice.  His  people  at  length  resolved  to  get  rid  of  him.  One 
of  the  committee,  therefore,  wrote  father,  asking  to  have  a  young 
man  sent  from  the  senior  class.  '  "We  want,'  said  the  gentleman, 
'  a  tall  man  with  a  good  voice.'  The  return  mail  carried  the  fol- 
lowing answer :  — 

"  '  Dear  Sir,  —  I  have  spoken  to  Mr.  ,  who  will  preach  for 

you  next  Sunday.  He  exactly  answers  to  your  list  of  qualifications, 
being  six  feet  two  inches  in  height,  and  with  a  powerful  voice. 

"  '  Leonard  Woods.' 

*'  Mr.  suited  the  people  to  a  T.   He  was  called  and  ordained 

a  few  weeks  after  he  graduated.  But  a  short  time  passed,  however, 
before  the  more  serious  part  of  the  congregation  began  to  feel  that 
the}'  were  being  starved.  They  longed  for  tlie  spiritual  food  so 
abundantly  dealt  out  by  their  former  pastor.  The  dissatisfaction 
spread  rapidly,  a  meeting  was  called,  and  a  committee,  consist- 


FBANENESS  AND  FAITHFULNESS. 


113 


ing  of  the  two  deacons,  was  sent  to  Andover  to  consult  with  my 
father. 

"  '  The  man  you  sent  us  is  not  giving  satisfaction,'  Deacon  A 
commenced. 

"  '  Is  not  he  tall  enough? '  inquired  my  father. 

"  '  Yes  — yes  —  sir,  that  is  to  say  — '  hesitating. 

"  '  Perhaps  his  voice  is  not  as  good  as  you  expected ;  or,'  he 
added  kindly,  seeing  the  discomfiture  of  his  guests,  '  it  may  be 
that  the  Lord  has  dealt  with  you  as  he  did  with  the  children  of 
Israel.  He  gave  them  their  request,  but  sent  leanness  into  their 
souls.' 

"  '  That  is  just  our  case,  doctor,'  answered  Deacon  B,  with  great 
emotion.  '  We  have  sinned  in  this  matter.  We  ought  never  to 
have  dismissed  our  old  pastor.  We  begin  to  hanker  for  strong 
meat.'  My  father  then  took  occasion  to  state  frankly  his  views 
in  relation  to  the  subject,  telling  the  deacons  he  had  expected  ex- 
actly such  a  result.  He  advised  them,  however,  to  take  occasion 
to  talk  with  their  minister,  and  especially  to  pray  for  him,  that  he 
might  give  his  heart  to  the  work  of  saving  souls." 

"At  another  time  a  young  clergyman  went  from  Andover  to  a 
parish  where  il  was  intimated  to  him  that  the  church  would  like  to 
give  him  a  call,  but  that  they  first  proposed  to  write  to  Dr.  Woods 
for  advice  in  the  pi'emises.    Feeling  very  confident  of  the  friend- 


114 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  RECOBDS. 


ship  of  his  professor,  Mr.  X  suifered  no  anxiety  in  regard  to  the 
result.  But  a  few  weeks  later,  he  presented  himself  at  the  door  of 
the  doctor's  study,  in  a  state  of  great  excitement. 

"  '  I  called,'  he  explained,  his  voice  trembling  with  anger,  '  to 

ask  the  reason  of  your  letter  to  the  committee  at  W  .'  Then, 

without  stopping  to  receive  an  answer,  he  went  on  with  unseemly 
agitation :  — 

"  '  Doctor,  I  thought  you  were  my  friend.  If  I  had  not  read  your 
letter,  I  would  not  have  believed  that  you  would  have  treated  a 
pupil  so  unhandsomely.  I  must  say,  doctor,  I  think  your  —  I 
think  that  letter  was  abusive.  Of  course  it  has  had  the  effect  that 
you  intended,  and  prevented  my  getting  a  call  to  W  .' 

"  '  What  did  I  say?'  inquired  my  father,  mildly. 

"  *  You  said  there  were  reasons  why  it  would  not  be  best  that  I 
should  be  settled  there.' 

"  '  Nothing  else?  ' 

"'Yes  ;  you  said  that  I  was  of  a  nervous,  excitable  temperament.' 

"  '  Is  not  that  the  truth?  If  I  had  doubted  it  before,  I  should 
not  after  this  interview.' 

"  Mr.  X  was  very  angry.  Ho  caught  his  hat,  and  was  about  to 
leave,  when  my  father's  voice  detained  him. 

"  '  Sit  down,  ni3^  son  ;  I  have  something  more  to  say.  Try  to 
feel  toward  me,  as  I  am  sure  you  always  have  felt,  that  I  am 
your  friend,  auxious  for  your  best  good. 


FRANKNESS  AND  FAITHFULNESS. 


115 


"  '  These  are  the  circumstances  of  the  case.  About  a  week  ago 
the  mail  brought  me  letters  from  two  parishes,  each  in  regard  to  a 

candidate  for  settlement.    One  was  from  W  ;  it  was  l\Ir.  A's 

letter  concerning  you.  The  other  was  from  the  large  and  flour- 
ishing church  in  M  ,  requesting  me  to  send  a  man  whom  I  con- 
sidered suitable  for  them.    The  parish  in  W  ,  though  wealthy, 

is  a  difficult  one  They  are  in  the  habit  of  having  trouble  with 
their  minister.  On  many  accounts,'  he  added,  with  a  smile,  '  I 
considered  it  a  bad  place  for  one  of  your  excitable  nerves.  After 
serious  consideration  and  pi'ayer,  I  have  this  morning  answered  the 
letter  from  M.' 

"  He  took  his  unsealed  epistle  from  the  table  as  he  spoke  and 
read  it  aloud. 

"  '  Dear  Sir,  —  I  know  a  man  whose  talents  and  acquirements, 
and,  above  all,  whose  ardent  piety,  eminently  fit  him  for  usefulness 
in  the  church  of  Christ.  His  name  is  X.  I  cordially  recom- 
mend him  to  your  people.  May  God  bless  you  and  him,  is  the 
prayer  of, 

"  '  Yours  truly, 

"  '  Leonard  Woods.' 

"  Mr.  X  sprang  from  his  seat,  caught  my  father's  hand,  wrung 
it  ardently,  and  rushed  from  the  room  without  a  word. 


116 


REMINISCENCES  AND  RECORDS. 


"The  same  evening  a  fellow-stndent  came  to  the  door  with  a 
note.    It  was  from  Mr.  X,  and  read  as  follows  :  — 

"  '  Beloved  Teacher,  —  I  am  overwhelmed  with  shame  and  con- 
fusion on  account  of  my  conduct  this  morning.  Since  I  left  your 
study,  the  hours  have  been  passed  in  self-examination,  and  in  a 
depth  of  humiliation  such  as  I  have  never  known  before.  Dr. 
Woods,  I  have  deceived  myself.  I  am  imfit  to  preacli  Christ.  My 
heart  is  too  full  of  sin.  I  see  now  that  my  anger  toward  you  arose 
from  a  consciousness  that  you  spoke  truth.  I  cannot  sleep  until 
I  confess  to  the  best  and  kindest  of  teachers,  that  I  indulged 
toward  him  the  most  undutiful  sentiments.  But  no  doubt  my  con- 
duct made  you  aware  of  that.    I  need  not  ask  3  0U  not  to  forward 

the  letter  to  M  .    What  you  saw  of  me  would  convince  you  I 

am  unfit  for  such  a  trust.  But  at  any  rate,  I  would  not  have  it 
sent.  The  last  hour  has  revealed  to  me  so  much  of  self,  and  so 
loathso.re  is  the  sight,  that  nothing  but  the  thought  of  God's 
abounding  grace  in  Christ  Jesus  keeps  me  from  despair.' 

"  Nevertlieless,  after  another  interview  with  Mr.  X,  the  letter 
was  sent,  and  on  the  strength  of  it,  the  young  clergyman  received 

a  call  to  M  ,  where  he  labored  earnestly  and  successfully  for 

his  Master,  for  more  th.-m  twelve  years.  During  all  this  time,  he 
cherished  towards  his  former  professor  an  affection  as  warm  and 


FRANKNESS  AND  FAITHFULNESS. 


117 


tender  as  that  of  a  child.  Even  during  his  last  sickness  he  referred 
to  the  circumstances  I  have  written,  and  said  in  regard  to  the 
kindness  of  Dr.  Woods  during  that  never-to-be-forgotten  inter- 
view, and  on  subsequent  occasions,  '  He  was  so  tender,  so  loving, 
and  so  faithful,  that  I  took  courage  and  began  to  preach,  begging 
God  to  help  me.'  " 

"  At  one  time,  many  years  ago,  Rev.  Mr.  W  came  to  Andover 
to  ask  my  father's  advice  concerning  his  parish. 

"  'My  people  are  dead,'  he  explained.  'Our  social  meetings 
are  almost  deserted  ;  I  am  often  tempted  to  omit,  them  altogether,' 

'•  As  my  father  did  not  reply,  Mr.  "W  went  on, — 

"  'I  received  a  call  from  a  few  of  my  parishioners  last  week. 
They  complain  that  they  find  it  more  difficult  than  ever  to  raise  my 
salary.    It  is  done  by  subscription,  and  not  by  a  tax  on  the  pews.' 

'  •  '  Did  they  state  why  they  found  this  difficulty  ? ' 

'•  '  No,  sir.  Indeed,  I  did  not  encourage  them  to  free  conversa- 
tion. I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  come  to  you,  and  I  wishi  d  your 
advice  first.' 

' ' '  Were  the  persons  who  visited  you  the  most  devout  of  your 
people,  or  otherwise?' 

' ' '  They  were  the  most  reliable  men  I  have.  Always  on  hand  at  all 
meetings  appointed  by  the  church  ;  and  though  I  differ  from  them  in 
politics,  I  must  do  them  the  justice  to  say  they  are  exemplary  men.' 


118 


BEMimSCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


"  '  Ah  !  May  I  imiuire  what  subjects  you  have  been  preaching 
upon  of  late  ? ' 

" '  Well,  sk,  I  may  as  well  confess  that  I  have  been  pretty 
thoi'oughly  into  what  are  called  the  reforms  of  the  day.  I  have 
preached  on  temperance  and  abolition.' 

"  '  How  many  men  or  women  have  you  in  your  church  and  parish 
who  are  in  the  habit  of  drinking  to  intoxication  ?  ' 

"  '  None,  sir  ;  none  that  I  know  of.' 

' ' '  How  many  who  sustain  the  relation  of  slaveholders  ? ' 

"With  heightened  color,  Mr.  W  auswered,  decidedly, — 

"  '  Not  one.' 

"  'Then,  my  young  friend,  I  advise  you  to  go  home  and  preach 
Christ  and  him  crucified.  Seek  your  closet  and  ask  your  Heavenly 
Father  to  give  you  the  wisdom  necessary  to  lead  these  souls  to 
their  Saviour.  You  are  under  solemn  vows.  Seek  by  a  new  con- 
secration to  warm  your  own  heart.  Paul  indeed  preached  temper- 
ance, but  he  also  preached  righteousness  and  judgment  to  come.' 

"Mr.  W  returned  home,  and  took  counsel  with  his  own  heart. 
What  he  found  there,  I  do  not  know  ;  but  he  afterwards  wrote  his 
professor,  thanking  him  most  heartily  for  his  advice,  and  closing 
with  the  words,  — 

"  '  I  never  enjoyed  a  Sabbath  as  I  did  the  last  one  ;  and  by  the 
appearance  of  my  people,  I  think  they  enjoyed  it,  too.'" 


mS  TEMPEBANCE. 


119 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

HIS  TEMPERANCE. 

Long  before  the  birth  of  temperance  societies,  my  father  became 
convinced  that  the  use  of  alcoholic  liquor  as  a  beverage,  so  com- 
mon in  the  early  part  of  this  century,  was  injurious  to  health  and 
morals.  He  eagerly  welcomed  the  primary  movement  calling  atten- 
tion to  this  subject,  and  was  one  of  the  first  who  enrolled  his  name 
as  a  member  of  the  temperance  society. 

I  well  remember,  when  I  was  quite  a  little  child,  hearing  him 
talk  with  a  brother  clergyman,  whose  views  were  opposed  to  his 
own.  This  gentleman,  whom  I  will  call  Mr.  A,  stoutly  urged  that 
it  was  a  command  of  the  Scriptures  to  "  use  a  little  wine  for  his 
stomach's  sake  and  his  often  infirmities,"  ending  with  the  asser- 
tion, "At  any  rate,  doctor,  I  could  n't  write  sermons  nor  preach 
them  without  the  excitement  produced  by  a  glass  of  good  wine  or 
brandy." 

"  If  that  is  the  case,  brother,  I'm  afraid  for  you,  —  I'm  terribly 
afraid,"  returned  my  father,  with  his  usual  frankness.  "  That  is 
a  kind  of  slavery  I  would  never  consent  to.  I  hope  you  '11  make 
it  a  subject  of  earnest  consideration,  whether  it  would  not  be 
better  for  you  to  give  up  such  artificial  stimulants  altogether." 


120 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  RECORDS. 


Mr.  A  was  angry.  This  was  a  subject  ou  which  his  feelings 
were  tender. 

"  Every  one  must  judge  for  himself,"  he  replied,  sharply.  "  No 
one  has  ever  seen  me  the  worse  for  liquor." 

"  There  you  are  mistaken,  brother."  My  father's  voice  was  as 
gentle  as  though  dealing  with  a  beloved  son.  "  I  am  sorry  to 
remind  you,  that  at  our  last  clerical  association  you  drank  so  many 
glasses  of  wine  and  brandy  at  dinner,  that  you  would  have  fallen 
from  your  chaii'  had  not  I  assisted  you  to  bed.  I  felt  so  much 
for  you,  that  I  went  privately  to  Mr.  B,  at  whose  house  we  met, 
and  begged  him  not  to  set  wine  before  you,  seeing  it  was  a  tempta- 
tion you  could  not  resist.  I  resolved,  then  and  there,  that  I  would 
never  be  guilty  of  helping  my  brethren  in  the  ministry  to  make 
drivelling  fools  of  themselves." 

A  short  time  after  this  conversation,  a  country  clergyman,  travel- 
ling from  one  town  to  another,  put  up  with  his  horse  at  my  father's, 
it  being  at  that  time  the  custom  to  use  a  brother  minister's  house  as 
a  hotel,  except  in  one  particular,  —  the  payment  of  the  biU. 

My  mother  being  ill  in  bed,  my  father  attended  to  the  entertain- 
ment of  his  guest. 

"  I  wish  to  start  away  as  soon  as  it  is  light,"  said  the  traveller, 
"  and  shall  want  a  hot  breakfast  before  I  go." 

This  was  in  May  ;  and  at  five  o'clock  a  cup  of  steaming  coffee, 
with  bread  and  cold  meat,  was  on  the  table  for  the  guest,  he 


HIS  TEMPEBANCE. 


121 


having  been  awakened  by  my  father,  as  requested,  half  an  hour 
earlier.  The  visitor  came  to  the  breakfast-room,  glanced  at  the 
table,  seemed  ver}'  uneasy,  and  finally  exclaimed, — 

"  I  must  have  a  glass  of  brandy  and  water  to  give  me  an  appe- 
tite.   I  should  n't  be  worth  anything  without  it." 

"  I  cannot  gratify  you,"  was  my  father's  reply. 

"  Cannot !    Why  not,  I  beg  to  know  ?  " 

"  Brother  B,"  said  my  father,  putting  one  hand  on  the  visitor's 
shoulder,  "do  you  know  that  you  are  in  danger  of  becoming  a 
drunkard  ?  It  is  already  a  subject  of  remark  that  your  frequent 
drams  befog  your  intellect,  that  your  sermons  are  without  power. 
I  say  this  to  you  in  all  kindness.  You  can  give  up  intoxicating 
drink  now  ;  in  a  year  or  two,  it  may  be  too  late." 

And  it  was.  Mr.  B  died  of  apoplexy  a  few  mouths  after  this 
frank  warning. 

It  was  the  observation  of  facts  like  these  which  led  my  father 
to  refuse  wine  or  other  liquors  when  attending  a  funeral,  and  on 
any  public  occasion. 

When  General  Jackson  occupied  the  Presidential  chair,  he,  with 
his  cabinet,  made  a  tour  thi'ough  New  England,  visiting  Andover 
Seminary,  among  other  places  of  interest.  I  remember  well  that 
my  sisters  and  myself,  with  Professor  Stuart's  daughters,  were 
dressed  in  white  with  garlands  of  flowers  over  one  shoulder,  and 
that  we  stood  in  the  gallery  of  the  chapel  to  receive  the  President. 


122 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


It  was  a  great  occasion  ;  the  honor  of  seeing  and  shaking  hands 
with  a  real,  live  President  was  almost  beyond  belief.  I  confess 
to  a  feeling  of  disappointment  on  finding  that  he  was  but  a  man, 
and  that  he  seemed  to  me  not  half  as  handsome  or  dignified  as  my 
father.  A  great  dinner  was  prepared  at  the  Mansion  House  for 
the  distinguished  guests,  on  which  occasion  General  Jackson, 
being  an  invalid,  took  dinner  in  his  room,  where  he  was  waited 
upon  in  state  by  Mira  Squawcombush,  the  only  descendant  of 
Ham  the  quiet  town  of  Audover  then  afforded. 

]My  father,  therefore,  took  his  seat  at  the  head  of  the  table, 
with  Vice-President  Van  Bureu,  instead  of  President  Jackson,  at 
his  right  hand.  Some  of  the  guests  called  for  wine,  others  for 
brandy,  which  was  brought  on  in  decanters  and  set  by  their  plates. 

At  length,  Van  Bureu,  turning  to  my  father,  asked,  — 

"  Will  you  take  a  glass  with  me,  Dr.  Woods?" 

A  smile  ran  around  the  table  at  this  question,  for  the  temperance 
society  had  lately  been  formed,  and  the  name  of  Leonard  Woods 
was  one  of  the  first  on  the  list.  But  my  father,  in  no  degree  dis- 
turbed, bowed,  saying,  with  a  smile,  "If  you  will  allow  me  to 
choose  my  liquor."  Then,  while  every  one  suspended  his  dinner  to 
look  on,  he  took  the  wineglass  Van  Buren  pushed  toward  him,  tilled 
it  from  a  pitcher  of  water  which  stood  near,  touched  his  neighbor's 
glass,  and  with  his  own  peculiar  smile  gave  as  a  sentiment,  — 
Andover,  the  cradle  of  the  temperance  society  !  " 


HIS  TEMPEBANCE. 


123 


There  was  a  perfect  shout  of  laughter  at  the  graceful  act,  and 
even  Van  Buren  expressed  his  admiration  of  the  consistency  dis- 
played by  it. 

When  my  father  was  more  than  seventy  years  old,  he  visited 
his  native  town  of  Princeton.  A  part  of  the  journey  was  per- 
formed in  an  old-fashioned  stage-coach,  the  vehicle,  of  all  others, 
most  favorable  for  conversation.  Among  the  passengers  was  an 
old  man,  whose  ruddy  features  shone  with  a  glow  that  was  not  all 
health.  For  an  hour  or  more  there  was  a  good-natured  discussion 
between  my  father  and  the  old  man  in  regard  to  the  advantages 
and  disadvantages  of  alcoholic  drinks.  My  father  affirmed  that, 
according  to  his  long  experience  and  observation,  man  (an  intem- 
perate woman  being,  fortunately,  unheard  of  in  those  days)  was 
far  more  vigorous  in  mind,  more  healthful  in  body,  without  the  use 
of  these  stimulants. 

His  opponent  maintained  a  contrary  opinion,  citing  his  own  case 
to  prove  that  the  moderate  use  of  rum,  gin,  and  brandy  was  bene- 
ficial. At  last  the  carriage  approached  the  town,  and  the  tired 
horses  crept  slowly  up  the  long,  steep  hills,  which  form  a  part  of 
the  mountain  range 

"  Come,"  urged  my  father,  "  I  am  six  months  older  than  you, 
let  us  test  this  question  of  bodily  vigor.  I  am  a  cold-water  man  ; 
you  drink  your  grog  daily.  We  are  near  the  top  of  a  long  hill ; 
let  us  get  out  and  race." 


124 


BEMINISCENCE8  AND  BECOBDS. 


Rather  reluctantly  the  old  man  assented,  being  urged  to  comply 
by  the  other  inmates  of  the  coach. 

"  Now,"  said  my  father,  laughing  gayly,  "  let  us  start  fair.  The 
one  who  runs  down  this  hill  and  up  the  next,  wins." 

Off  they  started,  side  by  side,  the  passengers  shouting  their 
encouragement.  But,  alas,  for  the  owner  of  the  red  nose !  The 
bottom  of  the  hill  had  not  been  reached  before  he  began  to  puff 
and  blow  ;  then,  finding  his  companion  was  far  ahead,  he  stopped 
short,  succumbing  to  an  inglorious  defeat. 

When,  at  the  top  of  the  next  hill,  my  father  paused  for  the 
stage-coach  to  come  up,  the  passengers  shouted,  merrily, — 

' '  Hurrah  !  Three  cheers  for  the  cold-water  man  !  Hurrah ! 
Hurrah !  Hurrah  !  "  * 


*  Printed  in  the  CongreyaUonalist. 


MISCELLANEOUS  INCIDENTS. 


125 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

MISCELLANEOUS  INCIDENTS, 

Some  writer  has  well  said,  "  A  good  auecdote  is  the  better  part 
of  a  biography,"  ehicidatiug  and  illuminating  it.  This  is  particu- 
larly true  in  the  narrative  of  my  father.  He  had  a  vein  of  muth- 
fulness  in  his  character  which  rendered  him  a  very  genial  companion. 
He  well  enjoyed  a  good  joke.  I  can  see  him  now,  with  his  eyes 
shut,  making  no  noise,  but  fairly  shaking  with  merriment. 

From  Rev.  Dr.  John  Todd,  I  received  the  following  incident, 
which  occurred  many  years  ago  :  — 

"  I  recall  the  first  time,  I  ever  saw  your  father.  It  was  at  Mr. 
Evarts's  (oh,  how  much  warmer  friends  were  then,  than  it  is  fash- 
ionable to  be  now) .  He  was  telling  the  story  of  a  young  lady 
who  came  to  him  for  advice.  It  seems  that  a  theologue  was 
smitten  with  her  charms,  was  very  attentive,  and,  I  think,  engaged 
to  her.  '  When  he  got  away  off  up  into  Vermont,'  said  Mr. 
Woods  (he  was  not  doctor,  then) ,  '  the  cold  climate  seemed  to 
affect  him,  and  he  became  cold  also.  He  wrote  her  a  letter  so  cold 
that  it  grieved  the  ])oor  girl.  So  she  wrote  back  a  warm,  com- 
plaining epistle,  almost  entreating  him. 


126 


BEMINISCENGES  AND  BECORDS. 


"  '  "  Oh,  child,  I  would  not  send  that  letter ;  nor  would  I  put 
myself  so  much  into  his  hands  as  that.  It  is  not  best  for  a  lady 
to  do  so." 

"'"Yes;  but  oh,  Mr.  Woods!"  and  tears  fell  fast  and  hot, 
"  what  can  I  do?  I  don't  believe  I  shall  ever  have  a  husband  as 
long  as  I  live  ! " 

"'Well,  Mr.  Woods,'  I  inquired,  when  I  found  that  his  story 
had  suddenly  ended,  '  what  could  you  say  to  her  ? ' 

"'Oh!'  he  answered,  with  an  arch  smile,  'I  gave  her  great 
credit  for  her  candor.'  " 

From  Dr.  Alva  Woods,  of  Providence,  R.  I.,  I  quote  the  fol- 
lowing :  — 

"  His  mind  was  habitually  cheerful  and  hopeful,  and  mirthful- 
ness  was  a  marked  feature  I  recollect  oue  instance  of  this  trait 
which  I  have,  I  think,  seen  in  print. 

'•With  a  smiling  countenance  and  twiukliug  eyes,  he  said 
to  me,  one  day,  '  I  was  dining  with  a  company  of  gentlemen, 
in  Cambridge,  after  the  Commencement  exercises  A  young- 
Unitarian  minister,  who  sat  next  me,  alluding  to  our  new  semi- 
narj-,  said,  "I  understand.  Dr.  Woods,  that  you  have  a  machine 
in  Andover,  into  which  thoy  put  pumpkins  and  grind  out  min- 
isters." 

"  '  "  Yes,  sir,"  1  replied.    "  Would  you  like  to  try  it?"'" 


MISCELLANEOUS  INCIDENTS. 


127 


From  a  clergyman  in  Washington.  D.  C,  I  have  received  the 
following  incident,  which  bears  so  evidently  the  stamp  of  truth 
that  I  transcribe  it :  — 

In  the  earlier  years  of  the  seminary,  evening  prayer  in  the  chapel 
was  followed  directly  by  supper  in  commons.  At  this  service  the 
professors  usually  officiated  in  turn.  On  one  occasion,  thi'ee 
young  students  waited  upon  my  father,  and  stated  that  they  came 
as  a  committee  from  the  whole.  After  a  little  hesitation,  one  of 
them  said,  — 

"  We  have  called,  Dr.  Woods,  to  ask  a  favor  of  you  ;  but  first, 
we  wish  to  say  that  we  have  no  fault  to  find  with  Professor 
Stuart  or,  indeed,  with  any  of  our  professors.  We  enjoy  his 
services  at  prayer  exceedingly,  but  sometimes,  of  late,  he  has 
been  rather  long  in  his  prayers,  and  we  have  been  late  to  sup- 
per, and  thus  late  in  other  engagements.  We  are  aware  of  the 
close  intimacy  between  you  and  Professor  Stuart ;  and,  as  it 
would  be  a  delicate  matter  for  us  to  speak  of,  we  have  come  to 
request  you  to  give  him  a  hint,  in  such  a  manner  as  you  may  think 
proper." 

"  Professor  Stuart  is  extremely  gifted  in  prayer,"  was  the  reply ; 
"  it  is  a  privilege  to  hear  him  pray,  but,"  with  a  smile  of  peculiar 
significance,  "  I  will  accede  to  3-our  request,  gentlemen." 

With  many  thanks,  the  conniiittee  took  tlieir  leave,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  the  house  of  Professor  Stuart,  where  they  made  the 


128 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


same  prefatory  remark,  and  the  same  request  of  him  in  regard  to 
my  father's  prayers. 

"Yes,  yes  ;  I  know,"  answered  Professor  Stuart,  with  a  laugh. 
*'  "Well,  I  '11  speak  to  him." 

A  few  da3S  later,  father  directed  his  steps  toward  Brother 
Stuart's  domicile,  where  he  found  the  gentleman  vigorously  plying 
his  saw  in  his  wood-house  ;  this  being  his  favorite  exercise. 

"I  have  had  a  call  from  some  of  the  students,"  father  began, 
"  in  reference  to  evening  prayers  in  the  chapel.  They  say  that 
they  enjoy  your  services  greatl}- ;  but,  sometimes,  they  are  rather 
long.  1'hey  felt  a  delicacy  in  making  any  complaint  to  you,  and 
requested  me  to  do  it  for  them." 

"Do  they  say  that  of  me?"  asked  the  professor,  laughing. 
"Well,  the  committee  came  to  me  with  the  same  request  in  regard 
to  you.    They  think  yours  too  long  !  " 

With  a  hearty  laugh  over  the  occurrence,  the  professors  sep- 
arated. 

I  am  sure  my  father  must  have  enjoyed  the  joke. 

One  more  incident,  which  illustrates  my  father's  quick  discern- 
ment of  character  and  motives  has  been  related  by  his  successor  in 
office. 

Miss  ]{,  a  lady  intimate  in  the  familv  of  Dr.  Woodti,  and  in 
the  habit  of  going  frequeutl}"  to  his  house,  made  an  earlj-  call 


MISCELLANEOUS  INCIDENTS. 


129 


there,  one  morning,  and  found  him  in  his  study,  his  face  covered 
with  lather,  and  a  razor  in  his  hand.  Her  errand  seemed  to  be 
urgent ;  for,  begging  that  she  might  not  interrupt  him,  she  hur- 
riedly took  a  seat,  and  said,  with  some  embarrassment,  — 

' '  I  have  come  to  you  for  advice.  I  want  to  know  what  you 
think  of  Mr.  C,  of  the  senior  class." 

"  I  think  well  of  him." 

"But,  Dr.  Woods,  this  is  a  very  solemn  subject  to  me,  —  very 
solemn,  indeed.  Do  you  think  Mr.  C  would  be  one  —  would  be 
a  suitable  person  for  rae?    Would  he  make  me  a  good  husband?" 

Suspending  the  operation  of  shaving,  the  professor  fixed  his 
eyes  keenly  on  her  face,  as  he  quietly  inquired,  before  answering 
her  question,  — 

"  Are  you  engaged  to  marry  him?" 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  I  am." 

With  a  smile,  he  resumed  his  shaving.  After  this  avowal, 
there  was  no  need  for  him  to  give  any  views  on  the  subject. 

During  the  spring  and  fall  vacations  in  the  seminary,  my  father 
was  in  the  habit  of  going  long  journeys  in  his  own  carryall,  taking 
his  wife  and  as  manj^  children  as  he  could  pack  into  the  carriage. 
At  one  time,  he  stopped  for  dinner  at  a  country  tavern.  In  the 
common  parlor,  to  which  the  travellers  were  shown,  a  woman  sat 
making  a  coat.    My  father  addressed  her  kindly,  and  soon  in- 


130 


BEMIXISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


quired  concerning  the  different  churches  in  the  place,  ending  with 
the  question,  — 

"  To  which  church  do  you  belong?  " 

"  I  joined  the  Orthodox  Congregatioualists,  sir,  but  T  left  them, 
a  year  ago,  for  the  Methodists." 

"Why  did  you  make  the  change?"  inquired  my  father,  per- 
ceiving the  woman  had  more  to  tell. 

With  a  peculiar  expression  in  her  bright  gray  eyes,  she  an- 
swered, — 

"  The  Orthodox  were  not  willing  I  should  take  up  my  cross." 
"  What  do  you  mean  ? " 

"  I  felt  it  to  be  my  duty,  sir,  to  speak  in  meetin',  —  to  take  up 
my  cross,  you  know,  sir  ;  and  they  objected." 

"My  good  friend,"  said  father,  in  his  kindest  tone,  "  would  it 
not  be  well  for  you  to  inquire  whether  it  would  not  be  more  of  a 
cross  for  you  to  keep  still?    That  may  be  your  cross." 

It  was  a  habit  of  many  of  the  students  to  come  to  my  father  for 
advice  in  regard  to  subjects  of  personal  interest.  I  perfectly  well 
recollect,  when  I  was  a  little  child,  sitting  on  a  stool,  behind  the 
old-fashioned,  open  Franklin  stove,  hearing  my  father  tell  a  story 
to  his  Brother  Cluirch,  as  he  always  called  tliat  eminent  man  of 
God.  It  was  an  account  of  a  student  who  had  paid  particular 
attention  to  a  lady,  until  he  succeeded  in  calling  forth  some  affec- 


( 


MISCELLANEOUS  INCIDENTS. 


131 


tion  on  her  part.  "  Now,"  said  my  father,  "  the  poor  fellow  is  in 
trouble.  He  came  to  me,  to-day,  with  a  request  that  I  would  allow 
him  to  walk  with  me  when  I  take  my  exercise.  He  has  engaged 
to  marry  the  lady,  and  now  cannot  tell  whether  he  loves  her 
enough.  He  seems  conscientious,  and  wants  me  to  direct  him  as 
to  his  duty.  I  inquired  whether  the  lady  was  aware  of  the  change 
in  his  feelings.  She  is,  and  is  willing  to  leave  the  whole  decision 
in  her  suitor's  hands.  He  went  on  very  volubly  describing  the 
state  of  his  heart,  when  I  stopped  him,  — 

"' My  dear  young  friend,' I  said,  'love  is  a  tender  plant.  If 
you  are  continuall}'  pulling  it  up,  and  anal3'zing  it  to  see  whether 
it  has  taken  deep  root,  don't  you  see  you  are  in  danger  of  destroy- 
ing it?    If  Miss    is  of  such  a  character  as  you  describe,  I 

think  you  may  safely  leave  your  happiness  in  her  hands  Beyond 
this  I  cannot  advise  you,  except  to  say  that  I  have  always  consid- 
ered it  vei'y  mean  and  unchristian  for  a  gentleman  to  win  the 
affections  of  a  lad}',  and  then  leave  her.' " 


132 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

SICKNESS  AND  DEATH. 

During  the  last  years  of  my  dear  father's  life,  those  who  saw 
him  most,  observed  in  him  such  constant  growth  in  grace,  such 
an  earnest  endeavor  to  obey  the  inspired  precept,  and  to  "  add  to 
faith,  virtue  ;  and  to  viitue,  knowledge  ;  and  to  knowledge,  temper- 
ance ;  and  to  temperance,  patience  ;  and  to  patience,  godliness  ;  and 
to  godliness,  brotherly  kindness  ;  and  to  brotherly  kindness,  chai'- 
ity,"  that  they  felt  his  divine  Master  was  fast  fitting  him  for  his 
heavenly  home. 

"  In  the  latter  of  these  graces,"  says  one  who  knew  him  well, 
"  he  was  certainly  far  beyond  an}'  Christian  I  ever  met." 

Indeed,  I  once  heard  the  remark  made  concerning  him  by  a 
good  minister,  that  he  carried  these  traits  so  far  as  to  be  a  weak- 
ness. 

"When  he  heard  any  unkind  remarks  which  one  Christian  brother 
made  of  another,  they  gave  him  great  pain.  He  often  said,  "It 
makes  my  heart  sore.    I  want  to  live  in  an  atmosphere  of  love." 

Some  time  after  my  mother's  decease,  my  father,  being  left 
entirely  alone  by  the  marriage  of  his  daughters,  married  Mrs. 
Lucia  J.  Ives,  widow  of  the  late  Dr.  Ansel  G.  Ives,  of  New  York. 


SICKNESS  AND  DEATH. 


133 


At  the  time  of  her  marriage  to  my  father,  she  had  seven  sons  liv- 
ing, two  of  whom  accompanied  her  to  Andover. 

The  relation  proved  in  every  respect  happy.  Toward  her  chil- 
dren he  manifested  the  affection  of  a  tender  father,  an  affection 
they  fully  reciprocated,  while  she  took  to  her  heart  all  who  were 
dear  to  him. 

During  his  distressing  illness,  her  devotion  to  him  never  wearied. 
Her  sons  left  their  business  to  minister  to  his  comfort.  It  was 
among  the  expressed  causes  of  his  gratitude  to  God  that  he  had, 
aside  from  his  own,  such  sons  to  be  with  him  in  his  liom-  of  trial. 

It  was  an  inexpressible  comfort  to  my  dear  father  that,  between 
his  children  and  the  children  of  his  second  wife,  there  was  such  a 
marked  affection. 

In  these  last  days  he  talked  and  wrote  much  of  his  wish  that  his 
children  should  continue  to  love  each  other. 

In  a  farewell  address  to  them,  left  by  him  to  be  read  to  them 
after  his  decease,  he  earnestly  expressed  this  yearning  of  his  heart. 
In  closing  he  wrote  :  — 

"  It  is  also  my  desire  and  prayer  that  my  children  and  the  chil- 
dren of  my  dear  wife  may  ever  cultivate,  as  they  have  done,  the 
kindest  affections  toward  each  other. 

"  The  Lord  grant  that  this  our  family  circle  may  all  be  united 
in  love  to  Christ  and  love  to  one  another,  and  through  the  abound- 
ing gi-ace  of  God  may  at  last  be  united  in  the  everlasting  employ- 


134 


BEMimSCENCES  AND  RECOBDS. 


ments  and  joys  of  that  happy  world,  where  there  is  no  sin,  nor 
sorrow,  nor  death. 

"  And  it  is  my  desire  and  prayer  that  all  my  grandchildren  and  all 
my  future  descendants  may  love  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  be  followers 
of  Jesus  ;  that  they  may  be  adorned  with  the  beauties  of  divine  grace, 
and  that  they  may  be  lovely  and  useful  in  life,  and  happy  forever. 

"  The  Lord,  in  infinite  mercy,  grant  that  I  and  all  my  descend- 
ants may  thus  be  saved  from  sin,  and  at  last  inherit  the  kingdom 
of  heaven,  and  all  to  the  glory  of  divine  grace." 

My  father's  delight  in  the  Scriptures,  which  had  been  his  study 
for  fourscore  years,  increased  with  each  revolving  season. 

During  the  latter  period  of  his  life,  when  he  and  my  present 
mother  constituted  all  of  the  family  at  home,  it  was  his  habit  at 
morning  and  evening  prayers  to  read  chapter  after  chapter  in  the 
Bible.    Often  she,  fearing  it  would  fatigue  him,  asked,  — 

"  Shall  we  stop  now?  " 

He  replied,  "  One  more  chapter"  ;  and  then,  "  One  more." 
The  simple  word  of  God,  without  comment  or  remark,  was 
indeed  meat  and  drink  to  him. 

My  lamented  father  spent  the  Fourth  of  July,  1854,  with  us  at 
our  seaside  home,  where  we  had  a  happy,  though  unexpected 
meeting  of  many  dear  brothers  from  a  distance.  For  a  long  time 
I  had  not  seen  father  so  vigorous  and  his  spuits  so  cheerful  aa 


SICKNESS  AND  DEATH. 


135 


during  this  never-to-be-forgotten  visit.  He  had  now  just  passed 
his  eightieth  birthday.  He  could  read  in  fine  print  without  glasses. 
His  hearing  was  as  acute  as  ever.  His  teeth  perfect  in  number 
and  beauty.  His  nerves  unshaken  and  firm.  He  accompanied  my 
mother  and  myself  down  to  the  beach,  and  even  waded  barefoot 
into  the  surf  while  we  plunged  into  old  ocean's  arms.  On  our 
return  he  sat  smilingly  watching  me  as  I  was  arranging  on  paper 
some  flowers  of  the  sea,  repeating  two  or  three  times,  as  he  gazed 
on  the  delicately  colored  mosses,     Wonderful !  wonderful !  " 

On  the  5th,  he  returned  to  Andover.  The  heat  of  the  day  was 
intense,  and  he  was  greatly  exhausted.  After  a  day  or  two,  being 
recruited,  he  went  out  to  take  his  usual  exercise  in  the  garden, 
when,  it  is  supposed,  his  fatal  illness  commenced.  Upon  return- 
ing to  the  house,  he  was  so  much  distressed  that  he  took  medicine, 
from  which  he  found  temporary  relief. 

The  result  of  the  post-mortem  examination  proved  that  the  vio- 
lent exercise  he  then  took  caused  the  lower  part  of  his  heart  to 
expand,  and  rendered  the  valves  useless,  so  that  the  blood  rushed 
through  it  in  a  tumult.  The  upper  part  appeared  to  have  been 
diseased  for  years. 

For  sevei-al  days  he  was  comfortable,  though  distressed  at  times 
for  breath,  especially  at  night  and  upon  lying  down.  Yet  he 
walked  out  daily,  accompanied  by  my  mother,  and  went  as  usual 
to  church  on  Sunday,  though  I  think  but  a  part  of  the  day. 


136 


BEMINISOENGES  AND  BECOBDS. 


He  soon,  however,  grew  rapidly  worse,  and  when  I  went  to 
Andover  on  the  second  day  of  August,  I  found  him  in  such  agony 
as  I  can  hardly  endure  to  think  of.  From  this  time  until  the  day 
of  his  death,  with  one  or  two  exceptions  of  an  hour,  he  was  unable 
to  lie  down.  For  a  few  days  he  used  ether  freelj',  which  seemed 
to  abate  his  distress,  but  which  made  him  "  dreamy,"  as  he  ex- 
pressed it.  It  rendered  him  also  so  drowsy,  that  he  dropped  to 
sleep  the  moment  he  was  relieved,  resting  his  poor,  wearied  head 
on  our  hands  as  we  stood  before  him.  But  we  were  obliged  to 
awaken  him,  having  received  orders  to  do  so  from  his  physicians. 

After  some  days  the  ether  ceased  to  soothe  him,  and  it  required 
no  small  degree  of  fortitude  to  witness  his  sufferings.  Indeed, 
there  were  few  who  could  be  calm  enough  to  watch  over  him  and 
minister  to  his  wants,  as  we  were  assured  by  his  physicians  that 
any  agitation  in  those  ai'ouud  him  might  cause  his  instant  death. 

Dm-ing  all  these  days  and  nights  of  weariness  and  agony,  he 
never  uttered  a  word  of  complaint.  Twice  I  heard  him  pray, 
"  Lord,  give  me  patience  and  submission  to  the  end."  When 
partially  relieved,  as  he  sometimes  was  for  an  hour  or  more,  he 
attended  to  letters  of  business  connected  with  the  different  benevo- 
lent societies  with  which  he  had  long  been  associated,  dictating 
replies  of  advice  or  encouragement.  He  literally  died  with  the 
harness  on,  being  interested  to  the  last  in  the  great  enterprises  of 
the  day,  and  also  in  the  minutest  events  connected  with  the  family. 


SICKNESS  AND  DEATH. 


137 


He  made  all  the  arrangements  for  his  funeral,  and  gave  directions 
about  his  private  business  as  if  he  were  going  on  a  journey.  I  held 
the  paper  while  he  wrote  a  few  lines  to  "his  son-in-law,  who  was  to 
preach  his  funeral  sermon,  expressing  his  wish  that  all  extravagant 
eulogy  should  be  avoided.  In  connection  with  this  wish,  he  had 
prepared  a  simple  epitaph  to  be  inscribed  on  his  tombstone,  and 
which  was  left  among  the  directions  in  his  will. 

On  the  Sunday  before  his  death,  his  sufferings,  for  want  of 
breath,  were  very  acute,  and  he  was  also  afflicted  with  a  severe 
pain  in  his  eyes.  Sometimes  he  pressed  his  hands  upon  them  as  if 
he  could  scarcely  endure  the  distress ;  yet  he  bore  it  without  a 
murmur.  I  had  been  applying  a  poultice  to  see  if  that  would 
afford  him  relief,  when  he  said,  softly,  — 

"Harriette,  1  don't  like  to  have  you  spend  your  Sabbath  in  the 
care  of  me  ;  it  takes  too  much  time  from  your  religious  duties." 

Jtfst  at  night,  we  drew  him  from  the  front  room  into  his  own 
chamber  and  toward  the  window,  where  he  could  see  the  gorgeous 
sunset ;  and  there,  at  his  request,  I  sang  to  him  a  few  verses  from 
his  favorite  hymns,  — 

*'  Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul, 
Let  me  to  thy  bosom  fly  " ; 

and, 

"  Tliino  earthly  Sabbaths,  Lortl,  we  love, 
But  there 's  a  nobler  rest  above." 


138 


BEMINISGENCES  AND  BEGORDS. 


With  his  eyes  most  of  the  time  closed,  he  thus  listened  to  the 
last  song  he  ever  heard  until  the  sound  of  the  anthem  of  the  blessed 
broke  upon  his  ear. 

When  asked,  on  Wednesday  night,  Aug.  23,  what  special  re- 
quest should  be  made  for  him  in  prayer,  he  replied,  "None  but 
the  prayer  of  the  publican  expresses  my  wants." 

The  next  morning  he  fainted  and  was  laid  upon  the  bed,  where, 
for  the  first  time  during  his  sickness,  he  remained  thi'ough  the  day. 
After  this  he  was  somewhat  relieved  in  his  breathing,  though  the 
water  was  still  oozing  from  every  pore  of  his  poor,  swollen  limbs. 

"You  are  almost  home,"  said  one  of  those  who  stood  by  his  bed. 

"  Blessed  home  !  "  he  softly  murmured. 

When  asked  by  another,  whether  in  view  of  death  and  eternity 
there  was  any  change  in  his  views,  he  responded,  feebly,  — 

"No  change."  But  presently,  looking  up  with  a  smile,  he 
added,  "  Yes,  there  is  a  change  ;  those  truths  appear  to  me  more 
truthful,  more  precious,  more  weighty  than  ever." 

At  half  past  seven  he  suddenly  revived,  said  he  felt  thhsty  and 
would  like  some  coffee.  This  beverage,  which  he  had  not  taken 
once  during  his  illness,  was  speedily  brought  to  him. 

"  It  is  good  !  "  he  said,  sipping  from  the  cup  held  to  his  lips. 

This  reviving  was,  however,  only  like  the  flash  of  a  flickering 
caudle  before  the  light  expires.  At  half  past  eight,  when  his 
sight  had  gone,  he  asked,  feebly,  — 


SICKNESS  AND  DEATH. 


139 


Are  you  all  here?"  and  with  scarcely  a  struggle,  calmly  re- 
signed his  soul  to  God. 

It  was  my  peculiar  privilege  to  be  with  my  father  and  to  hold 
him  by  the  hand  in  the  hour  of  his  conflict  and  his  victory.  My 
step-mother,  my  husband,  and  four  step-sons  were  also  kneeling 
around  his  bed  when  he  thus  fell  sweetly  asleep  in  Jesus. 

In  closing  my  imperfect  account  of  my  beloved  father's  life,  I 
cannot  do  better  than  to  quote  the  words  of  one  of  his  pupils. 
Rev.  George  W.  Blagden,  D.  D.,  delivered  at  the  fiftieth  anni- 
versary of  the  founding  of  the  seminary  :  — 

"  I  conceive  that  amid  the  many  whom  we  have  all  knoivn  and 
loved  on  earth,  and  whom  we  hope  to  see  and  greet  among  the 
redeemed  there,  who  shall  meet  around  the  throne,  the  glorified 
form  of  him  of  whom  I  have  spoken  so  unworthily  shall  be  beheld 
by  aU  of  us,  near  unto  the  throne  ;  and  as  he  bows  in  his  humility, 
as  all  unworthy  of  the.  blessings  bestowed  upon  him  by  grace, 
Jesus  the  Master  shall  say,  graciously  but  emphatically,  unto  him, 
'Thou  shalt  walk  with  me  in  white,  for  thou  art  worthy.'" 


140 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  RECORDS. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

FUNERAL  AND  NOTICES. 

During  my  father's  severe  illness,  bulletius  were  issued  daily, 
both  by  the  religious  and  secular  press,  as  to  the  progress  of  his 
disease.  After  his  decease,  the  afflictive  event  was  noticed  in  all 
the  principal  papers  of  the  country.  I  shall  copy  a  few  of  these 
notices  from  the  abundant  material  before  me,  to  show  in  what 
estimation  he  was  held  by  all  denominations. 

[From  the  Boston  Evening  Transcript,  Aug.  25, 1854.] 
"DEATH  OF  THE  VENERABLE  DR.  WOODS. 

"  The  Rev.  Leonard  Woods,  D.  D.,  P^meritus  Professor  of  Chris- 
tion  Theology  in  the  Andover  Theological  Seminary,  died  at  his 
residence,  last  evening  at  half  past  eight  o'clock.  From  the  ad- 
vanced age  and  high  official  position  of  the  deceased,  he  was  prob- 
ably more  widely  known  thi-oughout  the  Union  than  any  other 
American  clergyman.  The  students  who  have  been  prepared  for 
the  C  hristian  ministry  during  the  thirty-eight  years  that  Dr.  Woods 
has  been  connected  with  the  seminary  are  now  scattered  in  all 
quarters  of  the  habitable  globe.    The  young,  the  middle-aged,  and 


FUNERAL  AND  NOTICES. 


141 


even  the  '  fathers '  now  in  the  ministry  have  received  instniction 
from  his  lips,  and  will  ever  cherish  his  memory.  Dr.  Woods  was 
born  in  Princeton,  Mass.,  June  19,  1774.  He  was  graduated  at 
Harvard  College  in  1796,  in  the  class  with  the  late  Hon.  John 
Pickering  and  Judge  Peter  O.  Thacher  and  other  eminent  men. 
After  a  settlement  of  ten  years  in  Newbury,  Mass.,  he  was  in- 
stalled Professor  of  Theology  at  Andover,  at  which  place  he  has 
since  resided.  In  his  last  days,  and  through  a  painful  illness,  he 
was  surrounded  by  troops  of  friends,  and  by  his  beloved  children. 

"  A  correspondent  from  Andover  writes  :  'He  has  been  a  great 
sufferer  during  his  sickness,  but  his  pains  were  borne  with  Chris- 
tian resignation.  The  same  Gospel  which  he  has  preached  and 
taught  during  a  long  life  was  his  solace  and  support  in  the  time  of 
his  extremity.' " 

[From  the  New  York  Journal  of  Commerce.'] 

"We  are  pained  to  announce  the  decease  of  that  venerable 
Christian  patriot,  Rev.  Leonard  Woods,  D.  D.,  of  Andover, 
Mass.,  who  for  a  long  period  flUed  a  prominent  professorship  in 
the  Theological  Seminary  at  that  place  with  eminent  ability  and 
usefulness.  He  died  Aug.  24,  1854,  of  an  affection  of  the  heart, 
to  which  he  had  been  more  or  less  subject  for  many  j'ears,  at  the 
age  of  fourscore.    He  completed  his  eightieth  year  in  the  month 


142 


BEMimSCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


of  June  last.  Few  men  have  passed  off  the  stage  leaving  a  higher 
reputation  for  every  virtue  and  every  good  work  which  adorn  the 
Christian  character  and  life.  His  cheerful  benignity  in  old  age, 
when  most  men  are  peevish,  made  him  an  agreeable  companion 
even  to  the  young  and  the  gay. 

' '  Dr.  Woods  united  in  his  personal  character  great  wisdom  and 
piety  with  the  most  childlike  and  humble  simplicity  of  manners. 
His  heart  ovei-flowed  with  charity,  and  the  words  of  encourage- 
ment and  acts  of  love  which  he  bestowed  unsparingly  upon  others 
were  ever  accompanied  by  tears  of  tenderness  which  won  the  heart, 
and  were  the  means  of  saving  many  souls.  There  were  solemn 
themes  to  which  he  never  could  refer  without  emotion,  and  sacred 
names  which  would  cause  his  countenance  to  brighten,  his  heart  to 
swell,  and  streams  of  eloquence  to  pass  from  his  lips."  .  .  , 

[from  the  Annual  Report  of  the  Massachusetts  Home  Missionary  Society.'] 

"  Dr.  Leonard  Woods  was  one  of  the  illustrious  thirty-nine 
founders  of  this  society.  He  put  his -name  to  the  constitution 
fifty-six  years  ago  this  evening,  and  it  is  not  known  that  he  was 
ever  absent  from  an  annual  meeting  tiU  God  took  him  from  us  on 
the  24th  of  last  August.  It  is  certain  that  he  presided  at  every 
public  anniversary  since  his  appointment  to  that  office  in  1822. 
Long  has  he  come  to  our  annual  gatherings  as  the  only  representa- 


FUNEEAL  AND  NOTICES. 


143 


tive  of  those  honored  pioneers  in  the  home-missionai-y  work.  .  .  . 
Yet  in  our  bereavement  are  we  solaced  with  the  thought  that  the 
influence  of  such  men  does  not  cease  when  they  *  rest  from  their 
labors.' " 

[^From  the  Annual  Report  of  the  Massachusetts  Colonization  Society.] 

"Our  thoughts  are  solemnly  drawn  to  the  loss  of  one  of  our 
oldest  friends,  the  Rev.  Leonard  Woods,  D.  D.  He  was  one  of 
those  who  on  their  own  responsibility  called  the  meeting  at  which 
this  society  was  formed.  He  was  its  oldest  vice-president,  and  for 
ten  years  had  also  been  president  of  the  parent  society.  But  his 
interest  in  our  cause  was  of  much  older  date.  He  deeply  sympa- 
thized in  those  inquiries,  consultations,  and  prayers  of  his  pupils, 
which,  combining  with  other  influences,  led  to  the  formation  of  the 
parent  society.  He  never,  even  for  a  time,  deserted  the  cause  he 
so  early  loved,  and  in  his  will  classed  it  with  the  cause  of  missions, 
of  ministerial  education,  and  other  favorite  objects,  by  bequeath- 
ing to  each  a  legacy,  as  a  token  of  his  continued  regard.  Is  it 
certain  that  his  active  participation  in  our  labors  has  ceased  with 
his  mortal  life  ?  Or  may  we  believe  that  the  privilege  of  promot- 
ing, by  higher  and  holier  methods  than  we  can  comprehend,  the 
good  works  which  he  loved  while  on  earth  is  now  a  part  of  his 
exceeding  great  reward?" 


144 


BEMINISGENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


[From  the  Report  of  the  Southern  Aid  Society,  by  Rev.  Dr.  Stiles.] 
"  We  cannot  close  this  report  without  reflecting  that  during  the 
year  death  has  summoned  to  their  reward  two  of  the  most  cher- 
ished officers  of  this  society.  The  first  is  the  Rev.  Leonard 
Woods,  D.  D.,  of  Andover,  a  vice-president  of  this  institution. 
A  sounder  theologian,  a  simpler  Christian,  a  purer  philanthropist 
he  scarcely  left  behind  him.  The  Southern  Aid  Society  lay  near 
the  heart  of  this  great  and  good  man.  He  loved  the  South,  her 
bond  and  her  free,  and  he  longed  to  persuade  the  North  to 
cherish  a  spirit  of  Christian  kindness  toward  our  Soutliern 
brethren.  Many,  many  j-ears  ago,  he  himself  projected  such  a 
society  as  this.  He  hailed  the  formation  of  our  body,  therefore, 
with  great  interest  and  delight.  The  views  of  his  judgment  and 
the  beatings  of  his  heart  concerning  our  enterprise,  as  recorded  in 
oiar  documents,  his  own  considerate  hut  prayerful  donation,  espe- 
cially his  hearty  wish  that  he  were  able  to  add  hundreds  and 
thousands  of  dollars  to  our  funds,  we  shall  ever  cherish  as  a 
precious  legacy.  Those  holy  feelings,  those  pra3'erful  donations, 
man  may  soon  forget,  God  never  will !  " 


LIST  OF  PUBLICATIONS. 


145 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

LIST  OF  PUBLICATIONS. 

"  Envy  wishes,  then  believes,"  oration  delivered  at  Commence- 
ment in  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  1796  ;  two  sermons  on 
"  Profane  Swearing,"  delivered  on  the  day  of  the  annual  Fast, 
1799  ;  "  A  Contrast  between  the  Effects  of  Religion  and  the  Ef- 
fects of  Atheism,"  oration  delivered  at  Commencement  of  Harvard 
University,  1799  ;  A  discourse  on  "  Sacred  Music,"  delivered  be- 
fore the  Essex  Musical  Association,  1804 ;  "  A  Discourse  at  the 
Funeral  of  Mrs.  Thankful  Church,"  1806 ;  "Artillery  Election 
Sermon,"  1808  ;  "  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Messrs.  Newell, 
Judson,  Hale,  and  Rice,"  as  missionaries  to  the  East,  1812  ;  "A 
Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Samuel  Abbott,  Esq.,"  1812  ;  "  A  Sermon 
before  the  Massachusetts  Missionary  Society,"  1812  ;  "  A  Sermon 
at  the  Ordination  of  John  W.  Ellingwood,"  1812  ;  "A  Sermon  in 
Remembrance  of  Mrs.  Harriet  Newell,"  to  which  were  afterwards 
added  memoirs  of  her  life,  1814  ;  "  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of 
Rev.  Joel  Hawes,"  1818  ;  "A  Sermon  at  the  Funeral  of  the  Rev. 
Samuel  Spring,  D.  D.,"  1819  ;  "A  Sermon  at  the  Installation  of  the 
Rev.  Warren  Fay,"  1820  ;  "  Letters  to  Unitarians,"  1820  ;  "A  Reply 


146 


BEMINISCENCES  AND  EECOBDS. 


to  Dr.  Ware's  Letters  to  Trinitarians  and  Calvinists,"  1821  ;  "A  Ser- 
mon at  the  Ordination  of  B.  B.  Wisner,"  1821  ;  "A  Sermon  occa- 
sioned by  the  Death  of  the  Rev.  Samuel  Worcester,  D.  D.,"  1821  ;  "A 
Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  the  Rev.  Alva  Woods,"  1821  ;  "A  Ser 
mou  at  tlie  Ordination  of  Thomas  M.  Smith,"  1822  ;  "  Remarlis  on 
Dr.  Ware's  Answer,"  1822  ;  "Course  of  Study  in  Christian  Theology 
in  the  Theological  Seminary,"  Andover,  1822  ;  "  A  Sermon  before 
the  Convention  of  Congregational  I\Iinisters  in  Massachusetts," 
1823;  "A  Lecture  on  Quotations,"  1824;  "  A  Sermon  at  the 
Ordination  of  Benjamin  Woodbury,"  1821;  "A  Sermon  on  the 
Nature  and  Influence  of  Faith,"  1826  ;  "  A  Sermon  occasioned  by 
the  Death  of  Moses  Brown,  Esq.,"  1827  ;  "  Lectures  on  Infant 
Baptism,"  1828  ;  "  Lectures  on  the  Inspiration  of  the  Scriptures," 
1829  ;  "  Fatal  Hindrance  to  Prayer  "  ;  "A  Sermon  in  the  Mational 
Preacher,"  1830;  "  The  Province  of  Reason  in  Matters  of  Reli- 
gion," a  sermon  preached  in  Murray  Street,  New  York,  1830 ; 
"Letters  to  the  Rev.  Nathaniel  W,  Taylor,  D.  D.,"  1830;  "A 
Sermon  at  the  Installation  of  the  Rev.  Nathaniel  Hewett,  D.  D.," 
1830 ;  "A  Sermon  at  the  Installation  of  the  Rev.  T.  M.  Smith," 
1831  ;  "  A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Jeremiah  Evarts,  Esq.,"  1831 ; 
"  A  Sermon  before  the  American  Board  of  Foreign  Missions," 
1831  ;  "  A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Leonard  Woods,  Jr.," 
1833;  "A  Sermon  at  the  Funeral  of  the  Rev.  Ebenezer  Porter, 
D.  D.,"  1834  ;  "A  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Lyman  Monson  and 


LIST  OF  PUBLICATIONS. 


147 


Others,"  1835  ;  "  Prize  Essay  on  Native  Depravity,"  1835  ;  "  A 
Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Daniel  Bates  Woods,"  1839;  "A 
Sermon  at  the  Funeral  of  Dr.  JohuH.  Church,  D.  D.,"  1840  ;  '  An 
Examination  of  the  Doctrine  of  Perfection,  as  held  by  the  Rev. 
Asa  Mahan  and  Others,"  1841;  "Reply  to  Mr.  Mahan  on  the 
Doctrine  of  Perfection,"  1841  ;  "  Lectures  on  Church  Government, 
containing  Objections  to  the  Episcopal  Scheme,"  1843  ;  "Lectures 
on  Swedenborgianism,"  1846  ;  "  A  Sermon  at  the  Funeral  of  Mrs. 
Phebe  Fatrar,"  1848  ;  "  Theology  of  the  Puritans,"  1851. 

Besides  the  above,  Dr.  Woods  wrote  several  tracts  for  the 
Doctrinal  Tract  Society,  and  was  a  liberal  contributor  to  some  of 
the  most  prominent  religious  periodicals  of  his  day.  Several  of 
these  ai-ticles  may  be  reckoned  among  the  ablest  and  most  elabo- 
rate of  all  his  productions.  Many  of  these,  together  with  a  consid- 
erable number  of  sermons  preached  in  the  chapel  of  the  Theological 
Seminary,  at  Andover,  and  never  before  published,  are  included  in 
his  works  referred  to  below.  He  wrote,  also,  the  sketches  of  Dr. 
Backus,  of  Somers,  Conn.,  and  of  Dr.  Church,  of  Pelham,  N.  H., 
for  Sprague's  "Annals  of  Trinitarian  Congregationalists." 

In  1846  he  retired  from  his  professorship,  and  from  that  time 
was  eugaged  for  several  years  in  preparing  for  the  press  his  theo- 
logical lectures  and  a  portion  of  his  miscellaneous  writings.  These 
were  published  in  five  volumes,  octavo,  in  1849  and  1850,  and 
have  gained  a  wide  circulation  and  great  popularity.    During  the 


148 


REMimSCENCES  AND  BECOBDS. 


last  four  years  of  Lis  life,  he  was  occupied  in  writing  the  History 
of  the  Theological  Seminary,  with  which  he  had  been  so  long  con- 
nected. It  was  left  in  an  unfinished  state,  to  be  completed  by  his 
son.  —  Spracjue's  Annals  of  Trinitarian  Congregationalists. 


